A Hero's Journal
by Fiction-stalker supreme
Summary: A new world, and unlike the last Harry promises himself he will be sure to have fun, what fun is immortality if one doesn't enjoy it, is his new motto, but the Fates, or some forces far greater and more absolute seems to have different plans. Harry finds himself pulled into battles between Orignals, Hunters, and Witches. It is the sequel of sequel that hasn't yet been written.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Obviously I own neither of the works, they belong to whomever they belong to, hardcore fans will undoubtedly know who these people are. I can't say i do, though I do know J.K. Rowling.

AN: The beginning of a new story, and the third in what I hope will be the 'Hero Chronicles' spanning across a multitude of fictional universes; as it is this will be the third in the set, the second of which hasn't been written yet, but will the moment I have a clear idea what I want with it. This story cn be read without knowing A Hero on a Foreign Home and I will try to work it as such in a following stories, though there will be certain abilities and talents Harry will have learnt which won't be lost.

* * *

Mystic Falls

The town was small, and old, and so wrapped up in the supernatural it could be named Atlantis and no one would notice it wasn't a mythical city. It was perhaps the reason Harry had been drawn to it, his heart had so yearned for something above normal that he was willing to even put up with vampires for the chance to be in his element again.

The first thing Harry had done was build a house, it was a large house, considering he would live alone, with doors of solid oak, large windows which were crystal clear, and stone that looked of the whitest marble. Harry had a lot of money to burn and he was sure to burn most of it before he was killed by someone, something, or some being.

The second, Harry had organised a party. Yes, it was hard considering he hadn't even yet stepped foot in his house but nonetheless it had to be done, he had to meet people and that was the only appropriate thing to do. He had planned to invite the Fells, the Forbes, the Gilberts, the Lockwoods, and the Salvatores; those were not the only families in Mystic Falls but they were the most important. The Founders if Harry was correct, and he always made sure to keep an eye on those—terrible first experiences and all that.

The third, was an entrance. A large entrance that would make sure he would be forever in the little town of Mystic Falls, which was why his car, a sleek, black Shelby Cobra, roared through the winding roads, past the tall and thick trunked trees, towards his property which had been finished a few days ago. He didn't know the populace, or how strict the law enforcement was, but he was rich, powerful, and nothing a muggle did could impede him in the long run; and, above all else, he was free to just have fun.

'Welcome to Mystic Falls,' a board writhing in magic—all the land did in this universe—said as he passed, and Harry sped across the bridge it preceded, just in time to hear a siren start bleating. Green eyes glanced at the rear-view mirror and spotted the flashing blue lights behind him. Time to have a little fun, he thought, while changing gear; the car roared louder and immediately gained distance from the police car. The police car, made to give chase, but the moment Harry turned a sharp corner—it shouldn't have been possible with his speed, but magic went a long way—he put his car in an extra gear, and the car took off into the air, in minutes sailing above the trees.

Harry let out a whoop of laughter as wind whipped around him, ruffling his short and messy, raven hair. Harry loved flying, and as hard as it was to charm a broom, a car was much easier; he didn't have to add Breaking Charms, Cushioning Charms, or Sticking Charms. All he had to do was enchant the car to flying and that was it. Simple...well, when one didn't try to think about how inherently complicated magic was. He could hear the police car below still giving chase, as if it would find him, and when it did how would it explain how quickly he got to his rapidly approaching home?

It was a few minutes before he could see his finely mowed back lawn, and it was really a pity what he was about to do; he started decelerating, the car pointed at decline and landed on the green grass, drawing tire-streaks as it came to a stop.

He let out an excited breath, trying to calm himself and slow down his fast-beating heart. He let out another whoop of laughter as he drove the car through a tight passage and parked it lazily from in the driveway.

"Flashy," said a voice, and Harry wasn't all that surprised to see the blonde leaning in front of his door, her arms crossed and her brown eyes set on Harry.

Harry grinned. "I know. Great right?" What gift is immortality if I don't enjoy it, had been Harry's thought when he'd arrived on this universe. What was the use of getting to see different civilisations, on the same planet, on different planes if didn't try to enjoy it? Harry was sure he would get to see each and every one of them with each instance of his death. So in the mean time, he was going to have as much fun as he possibly could and not get caught up in the politics that would soon surround the muggle and the supernatural world. He was just going to have fun.

She snorted and turned, looking at the door. "Classy."

"You mean wasteful," Harry said. "You know, for a once vampire you sure do like saving money for some inexplicable reason."

"That's why vampires are rich, Harry, we save and the money accumulates."

"Or you just eat..." he hesitated, thoughtfully scratching his chin. The problem with immortality, and being stuck at the physical age of twenty-seven, was that he couldn't naturally grow a beard. He'd gave it some thought, and was appalled at it all, what sort of powerful wizard—and he was indeed powerful, there wasn't a doubt—did not have a beard? But his mind returned to the conversation, "or drink? I mean the correct term would be drink, but I've heard a lot of you say eat so I'm not really sure. But I digress. I was saying, or you just, insert correct term here, people with money and just take their wealth."

She gave a shrug as Harry went and stood next to her, both staring at the large ornate door. "What are we looking at?" Harry whispered when both had standing for to two minutes.

"Force of habit," she said before disappearing.

Harry opened the door and beamed, there was just something about a new house that made him so excited; maybe it was because he usually had to fight a hell of a lot to get one, but at the end of the day, the comfort a house, a home, brought, was immeasurable. He toured the house: the first floor having a large kitchen, a walk-in pantry, a diningroom, a livingroom, a study, and a drawing-room; the second floor with three bedrooms, all with their own bathrooms, and his lab, though for the time being it was empty; and the attic was to be his cash and artifact room. He would also need to set-up protective enchantments around the house, with all these supernaturals, witches, vampires, werewolves, hybrids—which were all the talk on the Other side—and ghosts, he wanted to make sure he kept his privacy.

"So," he started as he settled on the couch in the livingroom, the blonde looking out the large, crystal clear windows. "What do I owe the pleasure, Lexi?"

Lexi gave a shrug. "I just wanted someone to talk to," she said. "There aren't many Mediums on Earth that haven't gone insane already."

Harry snorted, reclining lazily against the sofa and putting his feet on the table. "Of course there aren't," he said. "Not with you lot always swamping them when they get into their powers." Harry shook his head at the thought of the last covenless witch he had come across: the man, Harry couldn't remember his name, had been so swamped by the spectral images of his ancestors that his mind had been forever addled, and it had been such a pity, Harry thought, the boy would have been powerful.

"We don't swamp, anyone," she said, with mock indignity.

"Yeah sure, then explain to me why I had to ward off a thousand ghost—" Lexi opened her mouth as if to say something but Harry interrupted, "And no, I'm not exaggerating, it was a thousand ghosts exactly, I counted." Harry sighed. "It was luck alone that I was used to your species and my own mind didn't addle."

"Okay, maybe sometimes we can get a little overbearing, but you have to understand, it's very boring on the Other Side. Do you know how long it took me to find one person I know?" Harry shook his head. "Your the first I've found and I don't know how long that took," she said, "time works differently here. But I know it was a very long time."

"Or it was a very short time, which you felt long because you are essentially, in Purgatory," Harry mused. "What does the Other Side look like?" Harry asked, the question had always vexed him; he didn't much know what the Other Side was or how it would interact with him. He was in essence, supernatural, so did that mean, if he died, he would walk the earth in some Purgatory like plain being bored out of his mind? He wasn't looking forward to it, and if he did by some unfortunate set of circumstance have to wander that plain, then he'd exhaust every resource to me sure he moved on.

"There isn't really a difference in this and the Other Side, the only difference is that this side is emptier. I can't see other ghosts for some reason."

There was a moment of silence, Harry's mind already contemplating his new home. "So tell me about Mystic Falls," Harry said, staring at the ceiling; there was an empty canvass above him, he was sure he could get an artist to paint a marvel of a picture reflecting the night's sky. He could charm that to move given enough time—he'd been practising his Charms work and had gotten to the point where he could enchant a portrait to move. "What do I have to expect?"

"Well, you're rich, so that will get you in with the A-listers," Lexi said as she settled beside Harry. "You don't look old and you have an accent, so that might do you well with the female population."

Harry grinned at that and turned to look at the woman beside him. "I've never been known for my big ego," Harry said, "but you, my dear lady, are giving me an absurdly large head." Lexi gave a small chuckle. "What about the supernaturals? Are they the friendly, yellow-eyed type, or do I need to be worried?"

"Damon Salvatore you have to watch for," said Lexi, and Harry frowned in thought. He'd heard the name before, he was sure, but for the life of him he couldn't remember where he'd heard it. But the surname, that was much easier to remember. A vampire with the name Salvator was once one of the worst Reapers to exist, and Harry had been in the process of finding and killing the vampire but had been stopped by the woman beside him. Lexi had told him, she would try and curb the Reapers' ways, and if she didn't, Harry had full right to do as he please. Suffice to say Harry had stopped hunting the vampire down many years ago. But Harry was sure the Reapers' name hadn't been Damon.

"There's also the witch, Bonnie Bennett," Lexi continued. "She can be dangerous."

Harry waved that off, the witches of this world were powerful in their own right, but their spells took too long to cast, and they had greater power when they were old or worked in numbers; but Harry could deal with the inexperienced, more particularly one witch, if indeed Bonnie was young.

"And Tyler Lockwood, he's a hybrid, and from what I've seen they're all sired to Klaus."

And there was a name Harry didn't need too long to think too hard to remember: Niklaus Mikaelson, the first hybrid and a man that had killed many werewolves in the bid to brew himself his own personal army. Harry didn't much like him and would have tried to kill him, but had been advised against that by the man's step-father. Niklaus was said to possibly be the most powerful vampire on this earth.

"A vampire, a hybrid and a witch," Harry said thoughtfully, he grinned. "It has the makings of a good joke in my opinion, but not the point; I think, if good became bad, worse, then worst, and things went south, I would be able to take-on those three."

"They also have friends."

Harry shrugged. "Death is not too big anyway," he said with an absurdly blasé tone, and really, what was death to one who woke up a second later. "Anyway, I need a kip," he said as he got to his feet and started towards his room upstairs. "I begin setting up the wards in the morning."

He slept and woke up bright and early the next morning, he walked outside, black wand in hand and held in front of him, and started: Swish, "Protego Horribilis..." Slash, "Salvio Hexia..." Upward wave, "Cave Iminicum..." Circular wave, "Repello Iminicum..." Jab forward, "Muffliato."

Harry continued in this manner, moving slowly around his property and the enchantments slowing moving further and further up to form what Harry imagined was an invisible bubble over his property. It took most of the early morning to get the entire grounds done, but it wasn't much of a problem; as much as Harry didn't care about dying, it didn't mean he went out of his way to die, and if there was a way to protect himself against the occurance—excluding building a Horcrux—he was going to take it.

"Done," he said, puffing his chest out a little. Not by far the best enchantment he could manage, but if he tried that, intruders couldn't persevere their way in, meaning a lack of entertainment—there was nothing more entertaining than a person trying to kill him, in Harry's opinion, it made the flurry of day, months, and years he was going through much more bearable.

His car was still parked in the drive-way, he walked to it and turned the key; the engine gave a satisfying rumble. Lexi appeared in front of him, her eyes questioning. "Just popping over to the local pub," Harry said before pulling into reverse and speeding off.

He got lost, more than once in fact, but the town's people were more than happy two show him the way—he'd even managed to snag himself three cellphone numbers along the way, Harry though it must have been the accent, his looks weren't way up there as compared to the other of the town's men (it was strange but everyone in the town was good looking, even the old people). So it had to be his accent, not to mention he was making it intentionally thick when he spoke to the female gender.

The pub, of the name Mystic Grills, was subdued as Harry entered; patrons sat hunched and talking quietly to each other, none too expressionful music drifted through but it didn't seem many were listening. He walked up to the bar and took as seat on the stool, a barman, tall, buff and blond approached.

"What can I get you?" the man, still at high school age if Harry were to hazard a guess, said.

"Whiskey, if you would," he said with a smile. A dmoment passed where the barman did nothing, then he awkwardly run a hand through his hair and hesitantly spoke.

"Can I see some ID?"

Harry snorted, trying with all his might to stifle the guffaw about to erupt. He finally managed to have it down, taking a few breaths then said, "I make it a habit not to carry ID around," Harry said. "You have no idea how many times I've had my identity stolen because of a lost ID. But I can assure you I'm twenty-seven." which was a lie, Harry was far over the age of twenty-seven. Heck, his second death—first semi-permanent death—had been when he was older than twenty-seven.

Disbelief shown in the blond's eyes. "Uhm..."

"How about this," Harry started. "I have a house, my own, just built it in fact, it's at the edge of...not important; my point is, to buy or build a house, one usually has to be of age, or obscenely rich but that's not the point. Since I have a house, it's plausible I'm of age, therefore I can get a drink. Make sense?"

The barman looked a little stumped—it was more to do with Harry's mastery of the Confundus Charm than anything else—but he dutifully reached under the bar and poured Harry a drink. The man smiled, it didn't have the burn Firewhiskey had, but it did nonetheless go to his head and that was what he liked. He took a sip, savoured it, then looked at the barman who still looked stumped by him. "So, care to tell me what's going on?"

"What do mean?"

"Well, I know things are different from England over here, but I imagine, pubs work the same; so things should be a little upbeat," he said.

"Oh, yeah," he turned sombre, antsy even. "There was a gas leak on a property at the outskirts of town, a lot of good people died." There was something off about the way he said 'good' people, but Harry chose to let that go, he did sigh though.

"I guess this would be a horrible time for a party, then?" The bartender didn't answer and Harry didn't mind much, he took another sip. "I forgot introduce myself didn't I?" He didn't wait for an answer, he extended a hand. "Harry Potter," he said with a smile.

"Matt," the bartender said, still looking at Harry with a slightly befuddled expression. "Matt Donovan," he said taking the offered hand. "Welcome to Mystic Falls," he added.

"Thanks," Harry said.

Harry spent the nest half-hour listen and watching—it was an unfortunate curse that he had shot at himself an over-zealous Supersensory Charm and was now stuck with above average senses; to many it would seem a gift, he knew, but they never thought about the many different, repulsive odours existing in the world. But he had to admit it useful, especially all the conversations he was privy to.

He smiled as a particularly intriguing one began beside him and it started with, "That seat's taken," this said by a dark-haired, dark dressed man who would qualify perfectly for the term, 'Mysterious Dark Stranger', except for the fact the blonde woman dressed in a police garb knew him.

Harry didn't glance, but peripheral vision was a beautiful thing when you cursed yourself; he could make out the blonde woman throw something sounding like paper on the table.

"Faulty gas line leads to tragic explosion at Young farm," drawled the Mysterious Stranger. He put down the paper. "Really?"

"Town Council blown up. Police have no suspects. Unless the perpetrator is right next to me." The blonde made sure to whisper, but it was still high enough fo Harry to hear. Harry was finding he liked this town more and more with each passing second.

"Well, don't look at me. I always take credit for killing people." There came the swish of liquid; the man taking a drink, then, "Seriously," he sounded annoyed, "stop looking at me like that, Liz. If I was going to kill twelve people, I wouldn't blow them up, I'd have a dinner party."

A vampire. That made sense.

"The explosion was sparked from inside. This wasn't an accident," she said, her voice still low, but even so, Harry had to wonder: Why were they having this conversation in a bar of all places? Didn't they know walls had ears?

"The Council's dead, Liz. I see that as a win."

"I've known some of the council since I was a kid. They were my friends."

"Well, your friends tried to kill your daughter."

Harry coughed, stifling a laugh. Maybe it made sense in context, but this was by far one of the strangest conversations he'd ever listened-on, the council trying to kill a police-officer's daughter and all of it discussed with nonchalance, that almost never happened. But there were bound to be differences between universes, that's why they were called alternate universes in the first place. That aside, Harry listened further.

"Who's the new guy?" Harry heard, it was the Mysterious stranger.

But just at that moment a new voice interrupted the conversation. "Excuse me, Sheriff?" it asked, though it was clear the man—Harry took a glance, he was tall and dark-skinned, his head shaved—knew who he was talking to. "Hi, um, I was wondering if I could speak to you for a minute about the explosion at the Young farm."

"I'm sorry, Mr...?"

"Oh, right. Connor Jordan," the man finished.

"Are you with the insurance investigators?"

"No, no. I'm more of an independent contractor," said Conner, then he paused for some a reason Harry thought would be too suspicious to check-out. He added in a bit of a whisper, "Can we speak in private?" Liz agreed and the two began to walk off.

"Nice to meet you too, Mr Busybody Guy," muttered the Mysterious Stranger as he returned to his drink.

Immediately after the Sheriff left Harry felt the urge to cause a little mischief, what that mischief he didn't know yet. But there was no rush, as immortal as humans weren't, they could live for more than a few days, and he'd missed breakfast. Mischief wold have to wait for the time being. He drove home thinking about what'd he'd overheard, it was really worrying for the muggle population of Mystic Falls that their Police Chief was in league with vampires; this, in essence, meant the entire town was run by the undead, especially if said undead were in the habit of feeding without care. But, Harry thought, the Sheriff couldn't be that stupid, she wouldn't allow the people she was supposed to protect suffer—except if she's Compelled, some part of Harry added to him. Harry hummed, he'd only heard of a few muggles that could fight off Compulsion, therefore in was possible for the Chief to be under a vampire's thrall.

Harry shook his head of the thoughts, ideas, and plans filling his mind. You said you wouldn't be pulled in, a part of him said, you said you were only coming here to have some fun, and I for one don't think trying to save a town is fun, it's work.

Harry snorted, as if he had not known the urge to help innocents wouldn't overcome him the moment he saw injustice, that was, afterall, why he had became a hunter and of Reapers particularly. He had noted vampires needed to feed, they were another species that preyed on humans, and as far as the natural order went, humans were suppose to adapt to defending themselves; he had noted this and made clear to himself he wouldn't kill a vampire on sight, instead he would kill Reapers—who to him, were like greedy cousins constantly stuffing their faces—and those who fed at such a scale that they were easy to spot. There still was a masquerade to protect and what not.

He parked the car in the driveway, walking into the house and started breakfast—Bacon and Eggs had became something he enjoyed every morning, an addiction of sorts, he was lucky he usually led an active life-style or his was sure he would have been Vernon's size. Time passed, Harry amusing himself with thoughts of when he would ward his Vault and get started on his lab, he was still trying to charm some kinks out of his gun—the thing sometimes didn't work as expect and shot off very different ammunition than Harry was going for, not to mention the thing was still on the clunky side. Done with breakfast, Harry proceeded to the kitchen, began washing the plate, dried it, turned and—

It broke as it hit the floor, not that the sound registered to Harry, his hand had already gone to his pocket and pulled out his wand, its tip glowing a fiery red as it expectantly waited to fire a spell. But Harry didn't fire, in the time it had taken his mind to think no less than nine deadly curses, it had also worked out that his house was already warded and he would have heard anyone with ill-intent break through them, he had also noted that the people standing in front of him—about a dozen or so, with ages varying from six to eighty and clothing reflecting different periods—were not blinking or breathing, they just stood, looking at him in an eerily cold fashion.

"Knock," he said annoyed, "clear your throats, announce that your about to enter a room before you do, I don't care just don't surprise me." His tone ending with a shout, he didn't like being surprised, he'd learnt while fighting the fast that his mind could think fast enough and his body work to those thoughts before the speedster got to him, therefore he'd decided to take out the former and let only instinct guide him. It worked, but it meant he was more ruthless to speedster than he often intended.

The ghosts disregarded this and kept looking at him, then one of them stepped forward. "Twelve have died," she said, her voice solemn. "The precedents of very dark magic."

Harry raised a brown. He thought it many times, the magic in this world was powerful in its own right, more especially that witches didn't lose their magic even after death, Harry hazarded a guess and thought they may be more powerful after death, which was why he didn't like them much; powerful people, dead, alive, or undead, often thought themselves gods, Harry had this affliction too but this had more to do that he was thought a god and thus he felt as such; and people who thought themselves gods, often expected that they get what they wanted irrelative of what anyone wanted.

"Okay," he said, the silence getting to its awkward phase, "and you're telling me this because?"

"We seek your aid," said another witch, there was something archaic in the way she spoke. "There a things at work far from our sight," she said, "but we can see the signs, we know what is coming, and it has us all worried."

"And what is coming?" Harry asked.

"A dark and terrible age," said the first witch, her voice going deep and adding to the effect of hopelessness.

Harry sighed, he could see he wasn't going to get any answers and felt a bit put-off, in his opinion it was rude to expect help and not give the full gravity of the situation beyond 'dark and terrible times approach'. He went back to the remainder of his dishes but said, "You want my help, and I'm not saying I'll help or anything, but if you do want my help, then tell me everything you know. Why are dark times coming?"

No one spoke for a while, close to the chest they play their game, Harry thought, but he wouldn't have it. He waited, washing the pan and his glass, drying them and packing them away, he mended the broken plate, then washed it again before anyone spoke, it was one of the young ones, she said, "Expression," the words said with distaste that reverberated through the room. Harry shivered, though he didn't exactly know why, his spine hit by an intense cold.

"And is that supposed to mean something?" Harry asked, though his voice betrayed him, it reflected emotion Harry didn't know from where it came. The word 'Expression' held its own magic, it wasn't dark or evil, just powerful; filling him up with raw power then leaving him wanting more. It was addictive, seductive, and entrancing.

"Expression is the darkest kind in our magic," said the girl, her voice shaky. "It has the potential unweave the fabric of reality, to undo what has been done and set in place millenia ago."

"And it starts with twelve dead?" Harry asked. There was no answer. None of them even looked at him at that question, Harry found it odd to say the least, but he remained quiet, let them contemplate what they were going to tell and he knew it wouldn't be enough.

"Do as you please," another witch said sounding defeated. "But we ask that twenty-four more do not die," and they vanished. Harry remained in quiet thought, ghosts couldn't hide from him, it had more to do with his Master of Death status than the silver ring with a large, black stone on his finger; and so he felt safe that they wouldn't see he was worried, with that sort of information they could manipulate him into doing what they wanted.

Was he going to help? That's sort of being pulled into the politics of this world, his mind-voice said.

"Yeah," Harry said out loud, he couldn't pull of different voices on his head and eventually he would lose track of who of the similar voice was standing for which point, it made sense to speak out loud. "But it could be fun," Harry said.

So would fighting a dragon but you wouldn't go doing that now would you, there was a small pause, Harry smirking then, nevermind. Harry chuckled at the resigned tone of his mind-voice. He was going to at least save innocent, save those twenty-four, from dying because of some magic ritual; that by definition was darker magic, and Harry didn't much stand for that. But he'd play it by ear, when things went south he would stop it, but not go out-right looking for it, he still had things to move and labs, vaults, and other things to charm.


	2. Chapter 2

Murder at a Funeral

Harry frowned, a hand scratching his chin, and his brow furrowed in thought. He tilted his hand left, a moment, then right, before tilting it left again. He let out a sigh, dropping his arms in defeat and pacing; this was by far one of the hardest decisions he had to make in a long while. He stopped, turned and repeated: his right hand went to his chin, he frowned, and his brow furrowed.

He heard a groan but didn't turn. "Honestly," said Lexi, annoyed. "They're just paintings, pick one."

Harry glared at her. "They're not just paintings," he said aghast. "I don't know if you've noticed, but the is a choice between the Mona Lisa—the real one mind you—and the Last Supper. I mean I'm biased towards the Last Supper," Harry said with a slight smile, thoughts of irony running through his mind, "but I don't want her in my vault again."

"Then put them both up," Lexi said still annoyed.

Harry shook his head. "I can't do that now, can I? If I do, some of the townsfolk would notice and they might put one and two together, and that equals me being the most sought-after thief in the world."

"It's not like anyone would notice," Lexi said but from her tone it was easy to tell she didn't buy what she was selling, and Harry noticed.

He smirked, eyes shining as he said, "It took you three seconds to notice these were real. What's to say the others of your kind won't?" Lexi didn't answer. Harry returned to his works of art, both of whom were bobbing slightly up and down, occasionally trading places in front of the wall one of them would be spending during his stay in Mystic Falls.

"The Last Supper," Harry said finally, the irony always got him in the end and it made him chuckle every time he thought about it; said painting eagerly took its place on the wall, and at once there were the barest signs of motion, nothing overt. The Mona Lisa frowned, and Harry sighed, this was the reason he always took a long time to choose between the two; he just couldn't bear that frown in a face which had smiled for centuries. "But I'm going to find a place for you, Sweet Lady," he said even though he hadn't charmed the painting to the point where it could talk back—he was still experimenting though. He swished his wand and the painting began moving upstairs to the vault.

"You know," said Lexi, "I might be able to talk to you, but you aren't exactly fun to be around. Always thinking or enchanting, or whatever it is you do. It's boring."

Harry snorted. "Don't worry," he said. "It's only a matter of time before excitement finds me, I wouldn't be surprised if something I wasn't expecting happened at the Memorial. I'll feel sorry for the families if something does happens," he said and meaning it. The Memorial held the first twelve to have died, the first steps in a ritual that could unweave reality, Harry was more than certain something unexpected would happen, it was usually how the universe worked. He didn't want to miss it of course, but hoped he wouldn't inconvenience anyone with his presence.

"Mystic Falls," Lexi said. "You'll find that people here let go of the unexplained pretty easily."

Harry sighed, remembering days long past when he could Apparate or Portkey into a packed street and no one would even bat an eye, he always found that strange but never questioned the blessing, it made things easier. "It might have something to do with the supernatural world," Harry said. "Maybe it seeks to protect itself, its survival from the muggles that out-number us."

"Muggles." Lexi shook her head, a strange word she always called it, but she had taken a liking to it, it separated the supernatural from the mundane aptly and didn't have the connotation that vampires, werewolves, and witches weren't human in their own right. "Anyway, why would magic want to protect us?" she asked. "We're far stronger and faster than them—"

"And yet many vampires die by Muggle hands," Harry interrupted. "It doesn't do to underestimate Muggles." and he left it at that, memories of his first world flashing through his mind, he pushed them back, took one last look at the Last Supper—it brought a smile to his face—then headed upstairs for a shower and a change into a sombre looking suit.

He was quick about it: he showered then put on his suit, making sure to stretch his ability at Transfigurations and make his hair a little neater. It worked well enough, but he knew from experience it wouldn't last too long, his hair seemed to have a magic of its own, retardant to nothing but the strongest of magic and ever-growing so it was always long enough to give him a messy look. He looked himself over, and had to admit he looked far from the specky, scrawny boy who had attended Hogwarts: he was taller, leaner and his skin trying its best to stop being pale, his glasses were also gone, that from having met an old man with very powerful blood who had healed his hampered vision.

Harry ran his wand over his hair again, getting a few strands starting to point up to lay down again, then stowed his wand in his pocket. He turned in the spot, appearing without a sound beside his car, he got in and drove off.

He didn't get lost. He almost did, but getting lost would have been a hard thing to do with all the car already heading towards the church. By the looks of it, Harry guessed a majority of the townsfolk were attending the Memorial. He was quick to find a parking space and walked towards the large ornate church, ignoring the whispers breaking out with his passing. Small towns rarely got anything new and Harry understood that he would be the talk of the town when people weren't mourning the death of their own. It was nothing to worry about, and nothing to give attention to, it would happened and it would pass. He walked into the church, scanned for proper seating and then decided to sit in the last chair in the middle-row, the most unobtrusive place in Harry's opinion.

There were murmured conversations for some time, Harry occupying himself with thoughts of what he still had to do; the night before he had been hard at work setting up the protective enchantments of his vault, the thing was nigh impenetrable, and by Harry's estimation, it would take a coven of seven, thirty minutes to break into it. But there were powers Harry still did not know about, and so there was no real way of knowing whether his estimation was true or not. He had also moved most of his possessions from England: gold coins—he still hadn't let go of wizarding traditions—littered the vault floor, swords and armour he had successfully enchanted, his guns, both mundane and magical, a few art pieces he had stolen—it was a pass time when he was exceptionally bored—and what looked like miniature Nuclear Missiles encased in an Unbreakable glass case. If those got out, the world would most likely cease to exist.

The murmuring slowly dwindled, and Harry's focus went to the front of the church, where a brown haired woman stood at the stage. The woman, Mayor Lockwood, gave a small speech, the sentimental sort of speeches that made your eyes start to water even if complete strangers were being talked about, then she said, "Before we begin the Mass, we'd like to open the floor to anyone who would like to share a memory about out late friends on the Town Council. I know that April Young wanted to say something about her dad. April?" There was an awkward silence, no one spoke. No one moved. "April, are you still here, honey?"

The mayor sighed a little when April didn't stand. "Is there anyone else who would like to share a recollection of Pastor Young?" Mayor Lockwood asked the room at large.

Again no one got up, eyes drifted from person to person, each expecting the other to get up. Each expecting the other to partake in the human tradition of choosing only to see the good side of the dead, and not comment about any evils they might have committed, well except if one was a convicted criminal, but that wasn't the point. Harry watched as each person shifted uneasily, the same thing being done behind the podium by the mayor. But then, when it appeared the mayor would let the Mass begin, a girl stood, clutching the seat as she stood.

"Come on up, Elena," Mayor Lockwood said to the pale looking girl. She gave a small, shaky nod before walking up to the podium.

At the same time Harry heard a very familiar voice speaking in almost a whisper. "Don't know why that always make me smile," it said and a moment later the Stranger walked past him and took a seat a few rows ahead, next to a dark-haired man—those the only characteristics Harry could make out from behind. "She doesn't look good," the Stranger said.

"Maybe you should have told me she was rejecting all food sources," said the man beside the Stranger. Harry almost smirked, but quickly remembered where he was, there was no time to be smiling at a funeral even when peculiar occurences were at work. The girl had gotten to the podium, and she stood, slumping behind it.

"Jealousy's beneath you brother," the stranger drawled and though Harry couldn't see he knew a glare was being shot at the Stranger.

"Bite me," was the answer from the brother.

"I," she stopped, her eyes moving tiredly over the crowd; her hands clutched the podium with such force Harry thought she might break it. She took a breath. "When I talked to April earlier she was kind of nervous about coming up to speak. And now that I'm up here, I'm kind of nervous too. The worst day of loving someone is the day that you lose them."

She stopped, and Harry saw her nose flared a little. The movement was a little hypnotic, Harry's did the same, it was faint, but there was a stench in the air, salty and coppery. Blood, and it got stronger with the echoing sound of a drop hitting water.

"Do you smell that?" the voice was crystal clear even though it was a whisper.

"Blood," another said, different from the first or the Stranger and his brother. Harry stopped himself from moving, quelling his curiosity; he had heard about the trick before, drawing out vampires with the scent of blood—hunters knew how easy it was for an unexpecting vampire to lose their control.

The stranger knew this as well it seemed, because he said, "Nobody move. Don't turn around, it's a trap."

There sound of drops hitting water continued, the smell of blood getting stronger. Harry's heart was already beating hard against his chest, the blood was fresh, he could tell, and for that to happen, it meant someone was dying. He stopped himself again from looking around, every fibre in his being shouted at him to help whomever was in the process of dying right now. He tried to push the impulses back, tried to quiet the loud voice of his 'Saving People Thing'.

People die, he told it, each and everyday people die. But if I stand up, if I face this hunter, I will be putting more lives with the reveal.

His 'Saving People Thing' shook its imagined head, shooting a glare at Harry that made him feel disgusted at himself. When has that ever stopped you? it asked its voice high-pitched. When has being revealed ever stopped you from doing what is right? Standing up and save who ever it is, that's dying.

"Please turn to page forty-two in your hymn book. Let us join together in a song," said a male voice and Harry was a bit surprised he missed the vampire-girl leaving. He stood with the crowd, and quickly tried to think of a plan.

"Lexi," he muttered, hoping the started song would cloak his voice from the vampires. The blonde dutifully appeared, not that she had much choice in the matter, when Harry called, ghosts answered. "As quickly as you can, find the where the blood's coming from." The woman disappeared.

Harry heard nothing over the song, too many voices for his below supernatural hearing that he couldn't find the vampires. But the blood had doubled, if not tripled in intensity; whoever was bait, only had a few more minutes at best.

"Upstairs, to your right," said Lexi and Harry thought it over as quickly as he could. What could he do? A whole manner of things but what he needed now was a way to stop the person dying from becoming late, and doing it in a way that won't shatter the Masquerade.

Bollocks with the Masquerade, his 'Saving People Thing' shouted and Harry fully agreed. He would deal with that when it—a thought formed. "Witches," he said, picturing the dozen or so witches who had stood in his kitchen. They appeared a moment later, they looked at him with knowing eyes.

"I need a favour," he said and he didn't even wait for an answer from them. "I need you to make sure whatever happens isn't given attention to."

One of them smirked. "Then we will have your word you will stop the coming darkness," she said, and Harry absently nodded.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," he said and he felt power wash over the entire church, he got into action. He walked out—

There was a light, and a furry of sparks as something slammed into Harry's shielded clothes. He paid it no attention and neither did anyone else for that matter, they stood watching the podium as if there was someone there—and indeed there was, but Harry didn't notice. He stalked up to the stairs, every part of him boiling with anger; this was unacceptable, being a hunter meant you protected humans from the things that went bump in the night, not put them in danger.

He turned a corner and dodged just in time as a meaty fist hurtled towards him. He jabbed his wand forward and the man, the same man who had spoken to the Sheriff, flew back and slammed into a wall. The man shrugged it off, getting to his feet and pulling out a knife from his pockets.

"I don't know what you are," the man said, "but I'm going to kill you."

He threw his knife, with enough force Harry couldn't dodge it; his shield appeared again, sparks flying as it an the knife collided. Harry whipped his wand, shooting a Stunner at the man but the spell hit and rebounded. Momentary confusion hit Harry but this was not the time for that; he shot another spell, a more powerful Stunner but the man dodged to the side, quickly getting to his feet and charging at Harry. They collided, and Harry felt all the air leave his lungs at the impact; they tumbled back, Harry losing his wand in the process. The hunter got to his feet, fists poised for a fight; Harry quickly did the same.

He grinned a feral grin, adrenaline flowing through his system and everything going into slow-motion. He was prepared for a fight.

FOCUS.

Right, the girl. The man punched and Harry blocked, wincing as the fist connected; he sent his own punch and it was caught, his arm twisted and another of the man's hands going at his throat. Harry's other arm was free, he opened it, pointing it towards the wand and it came flying at him.

"Relashio," he ground out, and he was suddenly let go. He twisted around. "Everbero." A green spell shot out, hit the hunter and slammed him viciously against the wall, the hunter's arm hung limply against him.

There came a small moan and all thoughts of the man in front of Harry disappeared; he rushed to the girl's side even as he heard the shambled motions of the hunter. The girl, her stomach red with the substance that pooled beneath, was pale and looked at the brink of death; Harry needed to work fast. He rushed to her side. "I'm here to help you," he said when he noted the girl's panic-stricken eyes; his wand pointed at her stomach, he started a song like spell he'd heard a very long time ago. He knew the wound would heal without a mark, but the girl had still lost a lot of blood. Harry pulled her into his arms bridal style, and got to his feet. He quickly went for the stairs.

"Vampire blood can save her," Lexi reminded him, and were it not for her, Harry was sure he would have overlooked the fact.

"Vampires," he said loud enough that it could be considered a shout. Faces turned, the Stranger and a face Harry could recognise even if he were blind. A Ripper. "I need blood, quickly or she's going to die." There was motion, but not fast enough. "Quicker!"

A blonde suddenly appeared in front of Harry, she looked worried. "I'll take her," she said and Harry saw Lexi nod behind her. Harry handed her over, and watched as the blonde put the girl gently down before biting her wrist and feeding the girl; she lapped it up and it would have been disgusting were Harry not worried about her survival.

The lead witch appeared a distance from the blonde vampire, she looked at said vampire with some disdain. "We cannot hold this spell forever," she said, and Harry understood.

"Take her out of here," Harry said. "Wipe away the memory of what happened here." and the blonde did as she was told just as Harry felt the magic snap, he turned on the spot before anyone could think to look at the back. He was aware he had blood covering his suit.

Harry appeared without a sound beside his car and waved his wand, cleaning the blood smeared across his blazer. He let out a breath, trying to calm himself and thinking about what had just happened, all the self-enforced rules he'd broken. First and foremost, he'd made an oath with witches; magic in most respects was binding, though usually the bindings could be broken because of free will, they often had disastrous results and Harry with his more than unfortunate luck didn't want to tempt the Fates, Merlin knew they hated him with a passion.

His eyes had subconsciously scanning the many rows of cars lined outside the church, the hunter was hurt, Harry's Bludgeoning Hex had most likely popped the man's arm from his socket, so Harry expected him to still be around. He didn't find him though, and after a few minutes he heard the Memorial begin at full-speed; Harry decided to hang back, get his mind in order.

Damage control, he thought when his mind got beyond the urge to fight and decided to work. He had the Stranger, the Ripper, the girl—Elena if Harry remembered correctly—and the blonde to worry about; they were vampires, and vampires were the gossip loving type most times and Harry didn't need the full scale of his abilities out in the supernatural world, if they were it could make things harder if he was captured. A Tongue-Tying Curse would do the job perfectly—memory charms didn't work on vampires—he would make it so they couldn't talk about what he could do even to each other, and a Finger-Crippling Curse for anyone who had the bright idea to write down his abilities. But all that wouldn't be easy considering he would need to catch all the vampires by surprise, and surprise didn't work too well when repeated, but he would figure it out.

Next were the witches and their coming darkness, now he'd been pulled in head first into something he didn't even know where to start and on top of that he'd made the oath to stop it. Stupid, Potter, said a mental voice sounding suspiciously like Draco Malfoy. Harry tossed it aside, at that moment it had seemed the smartest thing to do and he was necessarily regretting it. He had save a life and that was most important, his 'Saving People Thing' beamed at him, its eyes—and really should have said something about his mental state that he had so many different voices and figures in his head—shining in a Dumbledore like fashion.

So you've been pulled in, his mind-voice said. It sighed and long and annoyed sigh, then said, well at least we knew this was coming. What do we do now?

"Information," Harry said aloud. He needed the witches to tell him exactly what he'd gotten himself into before he could act, and I if they tried to send him out blind, screw the Fates he was going to go against his word.

Harry got into his car and drove home.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Apologies for the long wait, I had planned to update at the beginning of the week, but I was three-quarters into this chapter when I was hit by writer's block; I tried pushing my way through it, so that might reflect later in the chapter. Also, I'm aware some people may be acting out of character, I apologise for this; I'm biased towards certain characters, and not so much towards others, it will show. Enjoy.

* * *

Party at Potter Place

Harry paced, his eyes down cast and his finger rubbing his phantom beard. He already had the workings of a plan. Not much, but there was something there. He rubbed his phantom beard again, and then decided to shoot a glare at Lexi before looking at the young witch; Anna was her name, and she was the only spirit-witch that Harry trusted. It had something to do with the innocence that Harry could see in her eyes, but that all could have been an act to get Harry off his guard.

"How many vampires are in this town?" Harry asked.

The witch didn't even give the question much thought, she answered it as though she had known he would ask it. "Five," she said. "Damon and Stefan Salvatore, Caroline Forbes, Elena Gilbert, and Rebecca Michaelson." An original, Harry had the thought to meet up with her, he and her father had been friends once upon a time. "There's also the hybrid, Tyler Lockwood."

Harry shook his head. It was worrying when so many prominent members of the town were vampires, or in league with them; it meant the town's supernatural creatures, for lack of a better word, were not kept in-check—which explained why the Stranger, who must have been Damon Salvatore, spoke with no care to the sheriff about killing the council. But Harry wasn't about to try and fix that, he just wanted to ensure the vampires didn't go off gossiping about him. It would make this life less enjoyable, less on his terms.

Keeping their mouths shut about him was the simple part; a Tongue-Tying Curse and a Finger-Crippling Curse would stop them. But the tough part was surprise.

"And were they all there at the memorial?" Harry asked.

"The daughter of Michael was not present."

Harry mused for more than a second. "Doesn't your spell work against vampires?"

"It does," said the witch, "and it was working well at the Memorial, but its hold over them broke the moment your actions involved them."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, trying to think this all over. His first plan had been to ask the witches for help again, their spell—much like a Muggle-Repelling Charm—would have meant they wouldn't have noticed as Harry cursed them; but if the spell broke when Harry involved the vampires, then the plan wouldn't work. He was pretty relieved about it too; asking for the witches' help meant he was further in debt with them, and he certainly didn't want that.

He sighed. He would have to go about this on his own, try and be clever about it—which wasn't something Harry was well-known for.

"There's someone at the door," said Lexi, the first words she had spoken to Harry ever since the memorial. Harry had tried to interrogate—though he had thought it was more subtle questioning—her about the vampires of this town, the Ripper in particular. Lexi had made a deal that if Stefan went back to his Ripper ways, Harry had full right to kill the man. Harry had thought the Ripper had stopped, but then rumours drifted towards him that the Ripper was back and he was after Werewolves—Harry had a grudge with the man and Lexi knew it.

"Done with the silent treatment, then?" Harry commented as he walked out of his lab and downstairs. It must have been the strangest thing, Harry thought as he traversed the small distance between upstairs and down, for Lexi to watch him having a full one-sided conversation with the unseen.

He reached the door and opened it, a suited man stood on the other side, behind him a large van with other people coming out and hauling food.

The man in front of Harry smiled. "Good day, sir," he said. "Is this the Potter residence?"

Harry nodded. "You'll be the caterers, then," he said, gesturing the man inside. "The kitchen is that way," he said, pointing. "And I'll be leaving you to the task you know best."

The man nodded, politely agreeing then leaving to go supervise or whatever the man's job was, Harry didn't pay it much attention as he went back upstairs for some privacy; he did inform one of the workers where they could find him though.

Anna still stood where she had been, beside the piled brooms and the closet filled with armoured clothes—these were his hunting garb and they were much more powerful than the small shielding charms on his everyday clothes. The little witch stared with child-like curiosity at Lexi, the ex-vampire didn't know this of course.

Harry walked fully into the lab and sat on the fortified table acting as a desk on the far end. He looked at that girl, then at Lexi, his plans for the vampires were about done and all they needed now was action; but he still didn't know what the witches wanted of him.

"If you'll excuse us, Lexi," Harry said as he pulled his wand out of his pocket. "But I think this conversation should be private." He waved his wand and the ghost was pushed back by an invisible wind; the door opened as she came close, slamming shut as she was cast out. Harry turned to Anna.

"If you would be so kind, would you call the others?"

It wasn't even a moment before a dozen or so witches were in the lab, all looking at him with those cold eyes.

"Okay," he started, leaning back against his chair. "You've had my word that I'll help you," he said. "That I'll stop reality from breaking apart at the seams, so tell me: what is it that I'm exactly supposed to do?"

He could see the oldest amongst them open her mouth to speak, but Harry cut her off.

"If you say to stop the coming darkness, I swear I will stop. I won't even make the effort to stop whatever vague and ambiguous threat you think is about to befall this universe."

The witch quickly shut her mouth and she looked briefly sheepish. Another spoke, "Expression," she said, and again the word brought with it a flurry of emotions Harry had no idea where they came from. "It was used centuries ago by the most powerful amongst us to craft a piece of magic so great, there is no hope that it can be recreated."

"And what is it she crafted," Harry asked, finding himself curious—though he was so adept at Occlumency that his face didn't show it. Magic was his life. It was the only constant throughout his lives and therefore he had developed a love for it that transcended most relationships since his first semi-permanent death.

"The Other Side."

Harry stilled, his heart beating faster at the revelation.

The Other Side.

Purgatory.

A witch had created Purgatory.

Harry was surprised and more than a little scared, the Other Side was magic the scale Harry had never come across before, and a scale he didn't know whether he could match or not.

He shook his head. This was truly unbelievable.

"The Other Side," Harry said after a long while. "Truly astonishing, but I don't see how someone learning such magic could bring about dark times. Heck it could even end Purgatory," Harry said. He didn't like the idea of Purgatory, more likely what it would mean to him, but he had learnt to pay it no attention. His life wouldn't be truly lived if he spent every waking moment worrying about what was to come; he'd told himself he'd try to break through once he was caught on the Other Side, if that even happened of course.

Many of the witches frowned, some even shook their heads. "The Other Side has to exist," one said, a witch that hadn't spoken to Harry before. "It is what keeps us here, ensures that we keep guarding nature."

"Leave that to the living," Harry said with a lazy wave of his hand. "You're dead, you deserve rest, not this endless existence, watching as future generations make the same mistakes you did."

There was silence for a long while, but from the expressions Harry could tell they weren't about to change their minds; they most likely wanted him to stop this Expression user from achieving enough power to break the veil separating this and the Other Side.

"So you want me to stop whoever this is?" Harry asked, though he knew the answer.

"We want you to stop the veil from being broken," the witches said.

"You still haven't told me how to do that," Harry said.

"Stop the twenty-four from dying."

"So all I have to do to help you, is stop the twenty-four from dying?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"I can do that," Harry said with a smile. He didn't know yet how, but his 'Saving People Thing' would help him on that front.

Done with the details on keeping his word—and Slytherin-like thoughts were already filling his head about that—Harry set out to watch over the preparations for the party. It was an unfortunate fact that Magic and Technology didn't interact too well, and between the vault and the lab—which too was heavily enchanted—he couldn't even have the smallest of appliances; this in turn made it a bit awkward to set-up for the party without too many questions being asked. But he would make due, and the house was already looking fit for a party even more as the sun started setting.

"Done with the witches, then," said Lexi, she sounded exasperated.

Harry nodded, his wand in motions to keep the Last Supper from moving, the painting didn't want to have it though, and it seemed to have formed a life of its own.

"You didn't need to send me out, you know," she said. "It's not like I can see or hear them."

"Yes, but you can hear me, and you can piece together the rest of it by what I'd said."

"Not like I'm going to tell it to anyone."

"There are many mediums in the world, and you have a lot of time on your hands," Harry said. "Frankly, for the moment I don't trust that you won't leak information to your boyfriend, the Ripper."

She glared, but Harry saw something in her expression: was it perhaps guilt? Harry could look at it no further because the girl disappeared.

He quickly got into his formal-wear the as the clock went closer to the hour eight, and waited eagerly for the guests to start arriving. It didn't take too long, not even a full day after the memorial and people were already in a partying spirit. Harry acted the role of the gracious host, weaving in and out of conversations, a bright smile plastered on his face, and an ever alert gaze which didn't stray from its task.

"Mr Potter," Harry smiled as Mayor Lockwood suddenly appeared in front of him. She held glass of champagne. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you," said the older looking woman.

"Likewise," Harry said. "Your speech at the memorial was moving."

She smiled a sad smile. "They were friends, and what happened to them was a tragedy," she said. But then she smiled. "But now isn't the time for such thought, we should all be happy to a have a new resident in our little town."

Harry beamed. "Indeed. Which is why I thought it would be appropriate that I meet the locals," Harry said, but he stopped as he spotted a familiar face; dark and brooding, and he scanned the room looking for something. Me perhaps? Harry thought.

His attention returned to the mayor. "I'm sorry to cut this short, Lady Mayor, but I see an old friend."

Mayor Lockwood followed his gaze, then she frowned. "You know Stefan Salvatore?"

"We've come across each other a few times," Harry said. He gave the mayor a small nod then traversed the gathering until he stood in front of the Ripper.

"Mr Salvatore," Harry said with a smile, his hand had already gone to his pocket; his heart beating faster and his body preparing for any scuffle.

"Potter," the Ripper said in a monotone; there were a few people with their eyes firmly planted on them, watching each and every one of their moves that it would have been easy to think they were spies. Stefan noticed this. "I wonder if I might have a private word," the Ripper said.

"Of course, Mr Salvatore, if you'll follow me," and he turned walking away from the party and leading the man upstairs towards the study.

"Upstairs, second door on the left," Harry heard muttered by the Ripper, but he didn't turn, or react, he opened the door and led the man inside. The door closed with a muted thud then a click.

Harry turned and was caught at the throat by the vampire, he felt his feet lift the ground and came at eye-level with the Ripper; force the intensity of a jackhammer collided with Harry's mind, he flinched, but beyond that there was no reaction.

"You will tell me who you are, and why you're here," the Ripper stated, his words spoken with a quiet force that tried to burrow into Harry's mind.

He grinned, pulling his wand out of his pocket and shoving it between the man's ribs. "You drew the short end of the stick by coming here," Harry said, his voice soft but his tone of restrained anger. There was a brief moment the Ripper looked confused, his gaze on the stick pointed at him, but that confusion soon turned to apprehension as he stared longer at the Elder Wand.

"Relashio." Harry was suddenly let go and he landed on his feet, his wand working at a pattern. The Ripper tensed, but with the distance between them so short there wasn't a room for missing; there was a flash and a cannon-like bang, and when the light faded Stefan was stuck on a wall bloodied and bruised.

Harry pointed his wand at the man, a broad grin plastered on his face as he stared at the surprised look the Ripper had. "I've never liked your kind," Harry said to the man, his voice cutting through the wincing and haggard breaths. "You don't have much in the way of control, and are a danger to the greater Muggle population. I made a deal not to go after you," Harry said, and his tone hardened. "But when you went after the wolves, when you were no better than the Original Niklaus, you doomed yourself."

Harry's wand started glowing bright red. "One less Ripper in the world, not much of a loss."

The Ripper didn't speak. He stared at Harry, his eyes reflecting some strain, as though the man was trying in vain to pull himself off the wall. It wouldn't work, vampires still abided to some Laws of Physics, and the Ripper would need leverage before he could dislodge the Sticking Charm.

"Harry, stop."

Harry didn't turn, his gaze not leaving one of the few Rippers that still walked the earth. Harry had killed most of them, and Stefan had been a lucky, the effort of trying to be like an old man who had taught Harry a great deal. A man who truly believed in giving a second-chance.

But that chance had been pushed back in his face. He hadn't known he would be this angry when he finally came face-to-face with the Ripper—he shuddered to think of how reckless he would become when he came across Niklaus—but all that anger came boiling back. It was perhaps sentiment of a lifelong past that he still had a love for wolves, why he considered them the most human of supernaturals. They were cursed, unlike vampires who could get rings to ward off the sun's effects, wolves went through terrible transformations, and then they lost their minds and became feral.

Harry identified with that loss of choice, because more often than not, he was often pulled by mysterious forces into actions that ensured he died. Which was the reason he despised the Fates, and vowed to test the effectiveness of the Killing Curse on them if he ever met someone who said they were a Fate.

He wanted to kill the man that further cursed the most cursed species.

"Please, don't kill him," said Lexi, and this time she had appeared between Harry and the Ripper. Her eyes shone with fear, both for her and Stefan; magic affected ghosts, and Lexi only wondered what would happened if Harry shot a spell that could kill her.

"And why not?" Harry asked. "We made a deal the conditions of which were broken. I can do what I want."

"But kill him? Harry that isn't like you. You don't kill unless you have to, and in this case you don't. It was because of Klaus that he lost his way, you can't blame him for that."

Harry grit his teeth. Her word were true enough, he didn't enjoy killing even though he like a good fight. He only killed when it was necessary, and he truly believed in this case that it was necessary. This man had killed many and another lapse would mean he would kill again, could he just let him out of here?

Yes, he could, and he hated that. Dumbledore had thought him well. Too well, and sometimes he despised that.

"Consider yourself with an above average amount of luck, Ripper," Harry said. "Twice I have been convinced not to kill you, but I assure you that will not happened a third time." Harry's tone turned hard. "If you go back to your Ripper ways, I will kill you," Harry said, then he swished his wand, the lightless, soundless spells hitting the vampire.

"You'll be able to move in an hour or so," Harry said as he walked to the door. "I'll be watching you."

Harry turned and stalked out of the room, reworking his features so he didn't have a scowl when he went don't stairs. He arrived, and was a little surprised; there were none but a few, and most of them vampires.

His hand tightened around his wand.

"Our host finally makes an appearance," said a voice in a low drawl. Harry knew the voice, the voice that had blatantly spoken of killing the council, Damon Salvatore.

"Was my party that boring?" he asked, his mind already trying to set up a strategy. He was alone, and the only thing which had been his saving grace was gone. Now the vampires could attack him and cover it up later, it was good he hadn't killed the Ripper, he shuddered to think what they would have done to him had they learnt of that death. "Didn't expect people to have left this early into the night," two hours hadn't even passed yet, but he strongly suspected the vampires had a hand in this.

He tried to name them, recalling what he'd learnt from Anna; there was a Damon Salvatore, who shared enough of a resemblance with his brother to be recognisable, Elena Gilbert, the vampire Harry had seen week at the memorial, she looked considerably better now, Caroline Forbes, the blonde who had used her vampiric speed in public to save a girl's life—Harry decided he liked her—and the last, Tyler Lockwood, Harry hadn't notice him at the Memorial but he decided to keep a better eye on his now, he might have hated the Original Hybrid, but Tyler was still of a supernatural species Harry liked.

"That would be us," said Caroline, she stood beside Tyler, the two close enough that Harry thought they were a couple. "We wanted to speak to you about what happened at the Memorial."

Harry raised a brow. "I wouldn't have thought that seeing as you sent a Ripper after me," he said, there was shock at his words, though not from Damon, the man had schooled his features tightly.

"Reformed Ripper," Damon corrected. "Where is brother dearest anyway?" he asked as though conversationally.

Harry shrugged. "Must have gotten lost, it's a big house," though it wasn't by much. He didn't like this; if they were all here, then he couldn't surprise them at all now could he? He internally sighed, but didn't dwell too much on the feeling, he had gotten used to his plans being foiled. "But fret not, I'm sure he'll find his way." Harry walked further into the living room, bypassing Caroline and Tyler and took a seat on a couch, it wouldn't do to be uncomfortable in his own house.

"You wanted to know about the memorial? Then ask away." Talking would give him time enough to form another plan.

"Did you attack April Young?" asked Tyler.

Harry frowned. "I'm sure if you were at the memorial, Mr Lockwood, but I trying—and I hope I succeeded—save her life. Why would I have gone to all that trouble if I wanted her dead?"

"To buy our trust," said Elena.

Harry snorted at that. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, love, but you're vampires, and vampires don't have much care for Muggle lives."

She grit her teeth, it seemed Harry had struck something; the others though looked a bit confused. "What's a Muggle?" he heard Caroline whisper.

"Non-magical folk," Harry answered absently, and silently chided himself, he shown them two things; that he could hear them when they whispered, and that he was magical.

"You're a witch?" came the question, the first from Damon, he sounded suspicious and taken a little off-guard. For a moment Harry thought they might not have too many witches in this town, but with the amount of witch-ghosts present here, it was impossible. "Explain the disappearing trick."

"A wizard," Harry corrected. He knew this universe used the term for both genders, but he had lived in a world where 'witch' was female and that belief thought system stuck with him.

"What would a witch be doing in Mystic Falls," Damon asked.

"Wizard. And what would a wizard be doing anywhere? What makes this place so special that it has to be suspicious when I arrive?"

"Given you've arrived just after the death of the council, I think that's suspicious," said Tyler.

"So that wasn't an accident?" Harry asked, feigning ignorance. "You should tell the sheriff then, she'll want to know this as soon as possible, and you don't really have a point there do you, Mr Lockwood, because if I remember correctly, there are two new inhabitants to the town of Mystic Falls."

"I wouldn't say not interesting," Tyler so low Harry had trouble hearing him. "The guy shot me, and he was at the Memorial, Elena saw him."

Damon shot the hybrid a look that said 'shut up' and the teenager acquiesced, maybe they were too used being around each other that they didn't quickly accept that a witch could have below supernatural hearing.

Harry grinned. "You see, I had nothing to do with Ms Young—well, if one doesn't count saving her, of course."

"You could still be working with the hunter," said Damon. "Witch or no, there's something about you that just screams hunter. I've been around long enough to spot it with my eyes closed."

"Wizard, and quite the boast," Harry said, and spoke no further.

"You didn't deny it."

"I didn't agree with it, either. You're just fishing, Mr Salvatore, reading between the lines and seeing only what you want to see."

"And you still haven't denied it."

"Still haven't agreed either, and I'm afraid this conversation will keep going in circles until one of us gets tired. I can go a very long time without food."

Damon snorted. "You're not afraid of us," said Damon. "Which I find strange. You might be a witch, but I doubt you could take all of us."

"Care to wager?" It was a bluff, he couldn't.

There was a moment of silence, Harry watching the vampires for any sign of motion, then Damon smirked. "Like I said, a hunter. We should kill him."

He stood with vampiric speed, Harry didn't even budge, even as Elena moved to stop him; she didn't get a chance though. There was a shift in the room, all of them felt it, and powers began to work their magic and after a second Damon no longer stood in the house but beyond the houses wards. Harry outright chuckled.

"I'm a wizard, you can't really think to kill me and not expect me to be prepared," he said as he watched their shocked faces. "Listen to me, all of you," Harry said and there was a power in his voice, it rang of authority, of age, of wisdom the vampires in the room couldn't hope to match. "Things will change in Mystic Falls, if you thought, just because your families were prominent members of the community, you would have a good time snacking on all on its inhabitants without mummy saying no. Well I'm sorry to tell you this but those times are all over, I even get a whiff that you've killed someone and I will find out who it was, and kill them, painfully."

Harry smiled. "Threat done. I would like you all to leave. I need sleep."

"You know we're vampires right?" asked Tyler, when the shock had worn off.

"And I'm a wizard, while you're creatures of magic, I wield it however I please. Who, of us, is more powerful?" Harry let the question hang. "I'll let you decide."

"We should go," Caroline whispered, she looked at Elena who watched Harry with an indecipherable expression. Tyler nodded, then started moving. Elena didn't. "Elena?"

"I just need to speak to him," she said to Caroline.

Caroline nodded, then started walking off. Tyler following.

"Something the matter, Ms Gilbert?"

"You don't like Rippers," she started. "I could hear it in the way you spoke about him, but you have to know, he's changed. He's loving, compassionate, and he wouldn't hurt a soul. I'm asking you to keep an open mind towards him, not let his past mistakes cloud the man he's trying to be."

"I'll try, Ms Gilbert, though I won't be promising anything," she nodded, "and since you've provided me ample opportunity." Harry quickly raised his wand and shot two simultaneous curses at her; she retched, surprised at the feeling of her tongue rolling into her throat and her fingers cramping up.

"I apologise, but those are precautions to ensure you're not all gabby about me. I wouldn't try writing down my name," Harry added even as he watched veins appear around the vampire's eyes; she disappeared just as Damon had done not a moment ago.

Harry walked upstairs, enchanting every room in the house to keep out vampires as he walked; he only left one path, and that led from his lab, to the front door.

His plans hadn't worked, he mused sitting in his room and thinking on the night's events. He hadn't expected they come together, that they distract him with the Ripper, then Compel his guests to leave; but they had played their game well, and came out with an upper-hand. They knew more about Harry than anyone alive, or even undead, and though they didn't know it, knowledge in Harry's abilities often meant he could then be easily predicted.

There were still three vampires he needed to keep shut, and he was starting to see that he would need help. He lazily twirled his wand, he hadn't had a companion since the man who had trained him as a hunter; maybe it was time for him to take on his own apprentice, and this hunter was the perfect prospect.

Harry stood. He wasn't feeling too tired, the night was still young after all. He checked his watch, there was still a few minutes before the Ripper would leave the wall; Harry had really thought the party would last longer.

Who to call? There weren't all that many ghosts that Harry knew, and the only regular was Lexi, but she wouldn't be talking to him now because of the whole Stefan thing. Harry sighed, and he liked her company, now things were going to be tense and he would have to apologise even though he knew it was right: it felt just like being married, at least what Harry still vaguely remembered of the experience.

He checked his watch again, still a few minutes left, and he still had to give the man enough time to actually leave; which would be an hour or so, Harry estimated. He amused himself with some practise, conjuring birds of fire that flew around the room, chirping and acting normally as though they were regular birds; he twisted his wand and the birds changed form, turning into seagulls, then owls. Simple though it was, with each practise he was teaching his body to move with some autonomy when casting spells, sometimes the mind took too long to remember; he wanted to have some variety even when his mind was not catching up—which was what happened when he fought with some of better speed.

An hour finally passed, and Harry Apparated to his car, pulling out of his garage and instantly taking to the sky. He tapped the small compass lodged in next to the speedometer, it spun rapidly, then fixed to a south, towards the hunter. The drive was a few minutes, three in total, before Harry saw a little caravan just on the outskirts of town; he descended, coming to a rumbling stop next to the man's van—or pickup as it was called around these parts.

The lights were on inside, but Harry didn't trust that estimation enough; he muttered a Human-Revealing Charm. There was someone there.

Good, Harry thought.

He started walking for the door, flicking his wand and popping the door open. He didn't let go of his wand as entered, making sure to look around for anything in the way of traps; there weren't many set up, but Harry could see a few wires in the cluttered room. He walked in.

BANG!

There was a furry of sparks as the bullet hit the shield; it rebounded and broke a window as it flew out. Harry's wand had gone to point at the man—Harry couldn't for remember his name, it had seemed unimportant when he'd first heard it—and the hunter, one arm in a sling, was pointing a gun at the wizard.

"What do you want? How did you find me?"

"Magic," said Harry as though that answered it all, which it did. "And as for the former, I want to train you."

"What would make you think I want your training?" the dark-skinned man asked, his deep voice dripping with distrust. "Vampire-sympathiser," he said that as though was a slur of some kind.

"Well, for one you have no real morals," Harry said, he walked further in and leaned against what looked to be a small counter, though it was filled with clutter. "I want to put a stop to that, being a hunter shows that you want to protect humanity from vampires, but what you did at the Memorial just told me you're no better that what you want to kill."

"Was that supposed to move me?" asked the hunter.

"Well no," Harry said. "I was just answering your question. Whether you're moved or not is really your choice. I'm just here to try and coax you into an apprenticeship position; I train you, teach you a little about potions, and give you a few trinkets that will ensure you aren't killed."

That latter seemed to interest the man, but his gun didn't waver. "Where would be the catch in all this?"

"You work for me. You kill only the vampires only I say you kill, and you don't hurt Muggles—non-magic folk—without cause."

The man shook his head. "Why should I trust you? You stopped me from killing vampires at that Memorial."

"No, I stopped you from killing an innocent girl. There's a difference."

Harry could see a struggle and he resolved on something, he grabbed a cup, transfigured it into a ring, then charmed it into a Portkey. "Here's a deal, I'll give you some time to think about it. This ring is the first trinket I'll give you. If you're ever in trouble, or if you want my training, say the name, Harry Potter. My name. It will teleport you to my house," with that Harry left, hoping the man would agree, he had to admit, the hunter showed potential.


	4. Chapter 4

Setting Up

Harry was bored. It had been two days since his party, and he had done nothing but stay in his house, trying to push down the excitement he felt every time he thought about having his own apprentice.

The man was crude and unrefined, having no clear moral compass when searching for vampires, but Harry was sure he could change that; it would take some doing thought, not that Harry minded. Any project to occupy his time was a Godsend..

But now all that excitement had somewhat evaporated. The hunter, Connor if Harry remembered correctly—and seeing as Harry had spent an hour searching his memory for the memory of the man, he was sure he was—had yet to contact Harry. The wizard admitted to himself he was starting to get bored.

Bored enough to actually go and check if the man was still alive.

What the heck, Harry thought before turning on the spot.

He appeared in front of the trailer, it was just as it had been two days ago, and the van was still in its place, not showing any signs of movement. But it wasn't like Connor had all that motion to him, Harry had still broken his arm, and the wizard didn't even think about healing him. The hunter's injuries were deserved, if the man was going to go around stabbing people, then Harry wouldn't show any remorse in hurting him.

Harry walked up to the door and, resisting the urge to just enter, he knocked.

There was motion on the other side, rushed motion that Harry guessed the man was equipping himself with a weapon; the door finally opened, slowly, revealing the man who was carrying a stake-armoured crossbow.

Harry smiled. "Good , day to you, my good man."

"What do you want?" the hunter asked. He didn't shoot this time, Harry guessed the man had learned from past experiences.

"Checking if you're alive," Harry said. "With the vampires in this town and you being a hunter, I thought they might have tracked you down and killed you."

Connor snorted. "They haven't," he said. "Now leave, before I decide to put a stake through your skull."

"We both know that won't work, now, don't we?" Harry said. "Are you going to invite me in?" Harry asked, trying to look past the man and into the trailer; from what he could make out, it too was still the same, organised in an unorganised fashion. "Maybe you could make me a cup of tea—cliché, I know, but," Harry shrugged.

The hunter stood, thinking, then he shifted back, allowing Harry entry. Harry noticed he wasn't invited in, which he thought was strange considering he had waltzed in just a few days ago. He chose not to comment though, and instead walked in, making sure not to have the hunter truly out of sight. The man was still dangerous, and strangest off all, was immune to the Stunning Jinx—this somewhat contributed to why Harry wanted the man as an apprentice, the possibility that he may be immune to some magic.

He took a seat near what looked to be a desk, Connor had walked further in and had put down his crossbow.

The man sat on his bed, wincing a little as his arm moved. Harry couldn't help smirking at that, Connor noticed and glared. "Who are you?" the man asked.

"My name is Harry Potter," Harry answered. "Though my name is not who I am. The question of who a person really is, is hard to answer, and I admit, I have yet to come across an answer that truly answered the question of who I am."

The hunter didn't look phased by the answer, he just stared at Harry with eyes that might have been intimidating to anyone else. Harry just grinned, he had nothing better to do today, and getting this hunter on his side was something he would surely succeed at.

"What are you?"

"Human, a man, a wizard, and once-upon-a-time a hunter," he answered.

"You were a hunter?" asked Connor, the man not even trying to hide his disbelief. The truth of it was, Harry looked young, and it had nothing to do with having good genes, it was an obscure piece of magic which he had yet to figure out. He was still trying to, but he thought the answers to that might be in his original world and was putting it off until chance had him land there, and he was starting to get used to his quasi-immortality.

The trouble with looking as young as Harry did, was that people didn't believe it when they when you implied that you were older than you looked. It was something Harry had found amusing, and over most time annoying, especially when he wanted to get a stiff one, but he was something he too was trying to get used to it; it often meant people were going to underestimate him, and in a world of superspeed and strength, being underestimated made things a little easier.

So Harry was not surprised at the man's disbelief, completely annoyed at the man's disbelief, emphasise on not completely. though he He was still annoyed, but with the poker-face as good as a crazy lady, it would have been hard to tell.

"Yes. Yes, I was," Harry said. "I took a vacation when my mentor disappeared, but I had to put the vacation on hiatus when I heard some disturbing news. Which is why I came here. Mystic Falls seems to be wrapped up in it all."

"Wrapped up in what?" asked the hunter, and Harry thought he might be wrong, but he was starting to detect interest in the man's tone.

Harry grinned. "Become my apprentice, and I tell you everything."

The man shook his head. "I don't need training, especially not from some kid," the last was muttered.

Harry lost his grin. "I'm not a kid, Mr Jordan, far from it. I look young, yes, but don't make the mistake of thinking of me as a child." He took a breath, there was just something about being thought a child that pissed him off. "But, I think you're a slight confused at the 'training' I will afford you as my apprentice; I will not be training you as a fighter," Harry said, "from our little scuffle at the church I can tell you can fight, you can shoot, and you're a good strategist. What I will be teaching you is, first and foremost, a little humanity; not all vampires are evil."

Connor's face scrunched, the man leaped to his feet, and scowled at Harry. "How can you say that?" he asked, his voice with heat. "Vampires are unnatural, abominations, killers."

Harry chuckled. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Mr Jordan, but weren't you prepared to kill an innocent girl just a few days ago?" The man sobered, then shifted. "And," Harry continued, "if you were prepared to do that here—only foiled by me. I wonder how many other times you've succeeded."

"Necessary evils," said the hunter.

"Then one can argue that, to vampires, killing humans are necessary evils as well. I mean, they either feed off blood, or they starve. I think most people in that situation would opt for the former." The hunter paused, looking as though he was of two minds, both these minds at equal odds with each other.

Finally he shook his head. "They're killers."

"You're a killer, I'm a killer, most people who drive under the influence are killers, but we don't kill them now do we? We sometimes don't even think them evil, we just think they are reckless jerks that should have died in the accidents of their own making, but we still don't think them evil."

"Is this your philosophy then? Let these scum continue to feed off people?"

"Well as long as they don't kill Muggles, then I say let them be. Step off line though, or become a Ripper, then all bets are off, as the saying goes.. But that was the first point, the second; I would offer you magical protection. The shields which have stopped you on your tries to kill me are what have become basic enchantments, I have a range of weapons that will make your vampire killing ways easier and less life-threatening, and I could afford you fail-safes, such as the ring, which could save your life in a pinch. I could also teach you a technique to push off Compulsion, that's the sort of training I'm offering."

Connor looked interested, and Harry knew he had him, but there was still reluctance. "Show me what you can do," the hunter said. "Show me what these weapons of yours can do, and maybe I might be willing to work under your wing."

"What do you have in mind?" Harry asked.

"Since you got my arm," the hunter started ruefully, Harry didn't even react to that, "I've been forced to only do reconnaissance; from my count there are two vampires, the mayor's son, Tyler Lockwood, and a blonde, Rebecca Mikaelson. I've already tried to kill the mayor's son, but that didn't work out too well, I think he may be a new strain—"

"Hybrids," Harry said. "Between wolf and vampire, they ought to be hard to kill." Connor was watching him with a queer expression Harry noticed. "You were saying…"

"Right. I want you to kill them, I let you pick which one."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think you're thinking," he said. "Didn't we just have a conversation about not just killing vampires? I haven't yet seen a sign that would say these two, have—"

"What about the council?" Connor asked. "Don't you find it odd how they died?"

Harry gave it a moment's thought, to those out of the loop it would look like vampires were the cause of the council's death, because every hunter knew that more often than not a town's council was more than just figure heads; they dealt with things the ordinary townsfolk did not know about. But in this case Connor's theory wasn't true was it? The council's death, the first deaths of twelve, was a key towards a ritual, and rituals were the works of witches.

How to stop this then? If he didn't agree to kill either Tyler or Rebecca, then Connor would find that Harry was too soft for his liking, which was often the case with hunters; Harry didn't know why, but when you became a hunter, several of your intelligence points decreased and you found yourself succumbing to stupid blunders and lack of impulse control.  
You just had to kill everything and anything that wasn't human, which made you predictable, and that was bad in the hunting game.

He couldn't go after the mayor's son, he was a hybrid, and killing hybrids would just be asking for Niklaus Mikaelson on his doorstep; and though Harry wasn't scared off the man, he was scared of what he was. Niklaus, and every other Original Vampire, were the works of witches, they were the products of extremely powerful spells that Harry's original world hadn't had; they were, Magical Creatures. The problem with magical creatures was the fact they were resistant to magic, and vampires—who already had and above average skill-sets when it came to resilience—which were resistant to magic, were a no-no. This made Originals about the most magical resistant creatures in this world, on par with dragons in Harry's world, and Niklaus especially because he was also the Original Hybrid.

But there was also Rebecca, she was both an Original and the daughter of a friend; he couldn't kill her either.

So what to do?

"I can't," he finally said.

"Expected it," the man muttered. "You know, you talk a big game, but I've met your type before, all bark and no bite."

Harry outright laughed at that, laughed enough that he had to wipe off a few tears. "No bite? How about you ask your shoulder about my bite, I'm sure it will disagree with you."

Connor scowled, but didn't comment.

"Don't expect to manipulate me in such simple methods, Mr Jordan," Harry said. "Try a little harder though, get to know me a little, and you'll easily figure out I don't care if people think me a coward, because more times than not, my actions speak differently."

Connor just snorted. "All I've seen from you is talk," the man said.

"You've heard talk, Mr Jordan, you haven't seen it; you've seen me speak, but not seen talk." Harry grinned at the slight sign of annoyance as the man's brow creased, and teeth grit together. "Anyway, things don't usually work out the way you have them in your hand; you're the one that's supposed to prove yourself to me, but I'm not asking you to, instead I'm asking you to still think about it. But I should warm you, if I don't get your answer within three days, I'll assume that a no and take the memories of today's conversations. I wouldn't want you to use it against me."

Harry smiled and stood. "Well, this has been fun," he said. "I was really hoping for that tea, but since you didn't make me some, I'm a bit put out. Hoping to receive an answer, I'll be seeing you around town."

He walked out of the door and walked into the woods, turning on the spot when he was hidden by the trees.

Secrecy still stayed well in his blood.

He appeared in front of his house, and was almost in when he stopped; looked around, and noticed for the first time that it was day, and it was a Tuesday; two of the three vampires he still had to curse were in school, which meant Damon Salvatore was all on his lonesome.

Easy pickings Harry thought.

He turned again, appearing in front of Mystic Grills. He walked in, and though the place was a little empty, it was a lot more upbeat than Harry remembered it. It was still low lit, colours changing between golden wood and deep reds; it reminded Harry a little of the Gryffindor Common Room, except there weren't as many drinks at Hogwarts.

He walked to the bar, Damon was sitting as he had when Harry had come before, hunched and staring at his drink, there sat a brown-haired man beside him who looked at Damon with some concern.

"Hello, Mr Salvatore," Harry said, the man turned, scowled then returned to his drink; the man besides Damon looked at Harry with an amount of confusion. "Hello to you too…" the man didn't answer, he instead looked around, his confusion increasing. Damon had also turned again. "This usually the part where you introduce yourself," Harry said to the man who still stared at him, though now it had turned to shock.

"You can see me?" Harry nodded. "How?"

"Ah, you're a ghost," said Harry. "Welcome to Purgatory, I hear it's very boring."

The man just nodded, there was a sense of relief about him at that he was actually being spoken to.

"You should follow me after I'm done with Mr Salvatore, I offer company to those who find themselves on the other side of that blasted veil. Back to you, Mr Salvatore, I wonder if I might have a moment."

"Sure," the man said with clear sarcasm, Harry ignored that, he took a seat beside the ghost.

"You don't mind if I have that do you?" he asked the ghost, the man shook his head.

"Not like I can drink it," the man muttered. Harry took that as a yes, he was half way to taking it, when a colder hand grasped his, tightening it with such force that Harry heard his bones start to crack.

"Let go of me, Mr Salvatore," said Harry, his tone threatening, "or you'll find yourself much like your brother."

"That's not yours."

"I know, I think you heard me when I asked its owner for it," Harry said. "It's his right? A friend who you just lost? It makes sense, saving a seat for him, that's what you were doing the first day I was here."

The vampire let go of Harry's hand, then looked forlornly at the seat between them. "You can see him?" Harry nodded. "Is he okay?" Both Damon and the man snorted at that. "Stupid question," they both said.

Strange, Harry thought.

"This is unhealthy, Mr Salvatore, what I'm about to do, but I can see you need it." Harry took off a silver ring with a large obsidian stone on it. Harry looked it over, then extended it towards Damon.

"What's this?"

"A powerful ring," Harry said. "Far more powerful than your daylight ring; it will grant its wearer the sight of spirits."

"What's the catch?" Damon asked, though he had made a minute movement towards the ring.

"I'll cast two spells on you; the first will bar your tongue, you won't able to speak of me or my powers; the second will cripple you fingers if you ever attempt to write about me."

There was a moment's thought, then, "Do it," said Damon Salvatore.

Harry nodded, took out his wand, made small gestures, and was done; then he handed the ring to Damon. "This is a loan, I will take it when I need it, or I find you abusing its power; and if you lose it, I will make searching for it greater even than the need of blood."

He grabbed the glass of whiskey and gulped it down, then took his leave, astonished at how easy that all had been. The man had tried to kill him only a few nights before, and here he was giving him his ring; he was indeed turning soft, he thought to himself. Harry shook his head, walking down the street without any direction. It was time he got a lay of the land anyway, what use was coming here if he was going to be a hermit? Spending all his time in his house?

He passed a few building, greeted a few people, but overall found nothing interesting. The scenery was a pleasure to look at though, which made his little walk not all that bad.

"Harry Potter," said a voice, and Harry came into his mind. He found that he was in front of a schoolhouse, which was really strange on his part, that usually never happened…well, not that Harry had noticed; they guy who had spoken was none other than the bartender who had almost denied him a drink. "Right?"

"Yeah," Harry said, he remembered the blonde in front of him, though not his name.

"Matt."

"Right, Mr Donovan, the first person to officially welcome me to Mystic Falls; that was greatly appreciated."

"Sure, what are you doing here? I didn't think you'd be attending school."

"I'm not," Harry said, "and I'm quite as surprised as you are about me being here, lost."

"You trying to get to your house?"

Harry shook his head. "No, just walking around trying to get acquainted to the town—I didn't see you at the party, I think I sent an invitation to your family."

"You did," said Matt. "I was just busy, work."

Harry nodded. "It does tend to get in the way," he said. "Which is why it works to get rich quick."

Matt chuckled. "If only it were that easy."

Harry hummed. "No truer words. But hard work often gets you far, or so I've heard; me, I prefer to find the short-cuts."

"I'll remember that," said Matt, then he looked around; the schoolyard was emptying. "I should get to class."

"See you around, Mr Donovan."

"Matt," the man corrected.

"Matt it is," said Harry and watched as the teenager walked back into school. Harry wondered if he should walk in himself, two vampires lay within, and he was sure he would catch them totally off guard. But school was school, it was a sort of sanctuary for Harry, and he couldn't desecrate that with a clear mind.

He continued walking, walking until an idea hit; it was time to change this town for the better. He walked, asked for directions, and then finally found himself in front of the Sheriff's office, staring at a wiry man who wore a police uniform.

"How can I help you day, sir?" the man asked with too much enthusiasm for a police officer.

"I wonder if the Sheriff might be in," Harry said. "I have something of import to discuss with her."

"She's in," said the man, "but you usually have to make an appointment to speak with her. The sheriff is a woman."

"I know," Harry started. "Which is why I chose this moment to come see her, I knew should would most likely not have any appointments scheduled, and therefore would free to see me; and considering the importance of what I have to tell her, she would be more grateful than not if, in the case she does have an appointment scheduled, you postponed that and instead let me see her. Now, doesn't that make sense?"

The man, looking befuddled, stayed silent in thought, frowning this way and that, then finally said, "I'll get the Sheriff."

Harry grinned. "I'll be waiting here."

"Right this way," said the man as he soon appeared. Harry followed him to the cosy room the Sheriff called her office.

"Mr Potter," the woman said with a smile as her Deputy left, on scrutiny Harry noticed the smile looked tired.

"A good day to you, Lady Sheriff," Harry returned and took for the gestured seat.

"How can I help you today?"

"It's about our local vampire," said Harry choosing not to talk around the subject, drawing it out needlessly; he knew, she knew, and he knew she knew. She turned shock and Harry stopped her as she was about to speak. "It wouldn't to feign ignorance, I heard you speak to Damon Salvatore, and I know your daughter is also a vampire."

"I wasn't," the sheriff said. "Going to lie, that is, I don't need to. Caroline already told me about you."

"She did?" The Sheriff nodded. "Wow, I'm surprised. Did she tell you about my threat?" Again the sheriff nodded. "Wow, you have a very good relationship with your daughter," Harry said. "Which I am somewhat concerned about, don't you think that, if your daughter went blood-lusty, you would be unable to do what is needed?"

"Caroline wouldn't," said the Sheriff. "She may be young, but she's got good control."

Harry hummed. "I want to believe you, but you might be speaking as a mother."

"I take my job very seriously, Mr Potter," said the Sheriff, a bit put out about her integrity being question.

"You'll have to excuse me, Lady Sheriff," said Harry, "but I find myself worried, between you and the Lady Mayor, you have supernatural children. I think that might make the both of you more likely to be lenient when they kill, if they already haven't."

"They haven't," said the woman. "But they have saved many lives with the rogue vampires they have killed."

"Oh? So it's a protection type deal? They keep other vampires out, and you're more lenient toward them?"

"They don't kill any humans, I don't have a problem."

Harry nodded, musing silently; he silently admitted that he might have been wrong about the relationship between vampires and the sheriff, maybe they were just trying to make a semblance of normality for themselves, and considering some still attended school, it looked like it. But then again, the sheriff might be Compelled to say all this.

"I wonder if I might try something," Harry said.

"What?"

"I want to see whether or not you've been Compelled."

"How will you do that?"

"I'll rummage through your mind, searching for any walls that might be in there."

"You'll be reading my mind?" she asked shocked.

"Well considering the mind is not a book to be opened and read at leisure? That thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls? I would say no. Though I am a master, enough, of Legilimency that I can delve into your mind and interpret my findings correctly."

"No," said the Sheriff. "I don't think I'll allow that."

"Okay then," Harry said. "Well until I can prove otherwise, I'll assume you're under Compulsion, and I won't trust any decisions you make in regards to the vampires of this town, and I might plan a coup in the future."

"I think you'll find, Mr Potter, that I'm not easily spooked," said the woman, and she looked it, her eyes were unwavering, filled with strength Harry found he always admired. "Do as you wish, we usually don't have any problems with witches—"

"Wizard."

"—but when we do, we treat them as we would vampires."

Harry nodded. "I'll remember that, and consider myself warned."

He liked her, those were Harry's thoughts as he walked out of the woman's office, as he turned on the spot, and as he appeared in his lab. He went to his desk, rummaged through it and finally found what he was looking for, a black book with the word 'Occlumency' written on its cover. It was Harry's book, written so that he would not forget how he learned the Mental Art, and in his death, his charms would die, and whoever found it, it would be for the better, hopefully.

But now he felt the need to give it away. He got to work, charmed the book so the words would only be revealed the Sheriff—it would need her blood, but that was easy to achieve, Harry charmed one of the pages to give her a paper cut.

When all was done, the enchantments took close to an hour, he tapped the book three times, and muttered Portus under his breath; the book briefly had a blue glow, then returned to its sheen, black colour, before disappearing into thin air.

He'd done his part, he hoped the mayor would heed his message.

Harry waved his wand in complicated fashions, light shooting out every few minutes and hitting the broom hovering in front of him; he stopped, looking the broom over, then started again, another set of enchantments, theses usually tricky. He moved his wand, his brow furrowed in concentration, and his thoughts focused solely on his broom.

He finished, the broom glowing a bright gold colour which blinked on and off at set intervals. Harry stood, watching in apprehension; the trouble almost always came with the application of this spell. He waited, his on baited breath, and the colour gradually begin, then it stopped.

Harry didn't moved, he knew it was irrational, but he felt even the slightest of movements would jinx his entire work. But in the end he had to move, he took a step forward; then broom suddenly took on a deep red glow; a large fiery explosion tore through the room, and simultaneously all shielding enchantments activated.

It was a cacophony of sound and colour; fire burned fiercely, igniting sparks as it slammed into Harry's shields; there was a rumble in room, shaking every surface, and many would have broken were they not fortified with magic. Harry stood in the middle of the room, his face shielded from the intense heat, and his wand working towards a Cooling Charm. He succeed, cool air rushing over his body, he took only a breath, then pointed his wand towards the fiery storm.

"Pyrfin!"

The fire sucked itself in, disappearing into something akin to a vacuum, taking all it warmth with it; then, after quiet moment had passed, the vacuum suddenly spat out a large amount of smoke and ash.

Harry flicked his wand and opened a window, pushing the smoke out with conjured wind; then he started breathing again.

"Merlin, that was worse than the last time," Harry muttered to himself as he looked around the room. Thankfully there wasn't any damage to his lab.

Charming a broom was just about the hardest thing Harry ever had to do, Heck, even spell creation was far easier than the former. The last spell, the Fire-Ending Spell, had been one of his fire try at spell invention; it had taken only a moment to get, unlike brooms, which, after years of continuous tries at enchanting, still couldn't even fly straight.

Enough for today, Harry thought as he stalked out of the room, making sure to close the open window. He went down into the kitchen and started for himself something to eat, enchanting always made him feel a slight bit peckish.

"Done," asked Lexi.

"Taking a breather, yes. Where've you been?"

"Talking with Alaric," Lexi answered.

"Who?"

"An ex-hunter, and a friend of Damon's"

"The brown-haired guy?" Lexi nodded. "I thought you couldn't see other ghosts."

"Strange," she said, "but I can see him all of a sudden."

Harry rubbed his chin, thinking. Why was that? Harry's mind worked, and quickly came to an answer: it had something to do with the ring he had borrowed Damon. But what was it about the ring?

Harry had never personally used it, not when he could call spirits without the ring's aide, and they would answer. But it seemed the ring had other properties in this world than just calling forth spirits…maybe it made then more tangible? After all, supernatural spirits hadn't moved On, therefore the trip for them wasn't all that far, and maybe they didn't have to leave much of themselves behind? It was something to think on.

"It was fun, then?"

Lexi shrugged. "We didn't know each other too well, but talking to a new face is something I enjoyed."

"Good," said Harry, and he found his thoughts returning to the veil; his promise aside, there really had to be a non-lethal spell to tear it apart. Harry was sure that if he tired hard enough, he could find a way to break it himself, but he doubted that such actions would take place in the decade, or even this century. Magic to that scale still lay too far ahead of him, he couldn't even charm a broom, so that was really saying something.

"How are they reacting to me?" Harry asked. "The vampires?"

Lexi didn't answer for a long while. "They're weary."

"A little more might be off help," Harry said.

"Damon told them you were powerful, Elena and Stefan agreed, and that was the end of it."

Harry gave a satisfied nod, which was half his task done. If they were weary, then they would heed his warning, they would make sure not to step out of line, and with three of them unable to speak of him, that meant his secret was safe.

"What about the witch, Bonnie Bennett. How did she take to a wizard in town?"

"You don't need to worry about her anymore," said Lexi, sounding reluctant. "She lost her powers."

Harry's brow rose. "Lost her powers?" he asked. "What, did she misplace them? Did they mistakenly fall from her pocket as she stood from her seat?" Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "I find that quite unlikely, magic doesn't work that way."

At least magic the way Harry knew it didn't; he was confused though, Bonnie was the only alive wish in Mystic Falls, Harry had surely thought that she was the Expression user. He didn't understand how Lexi could say the witch had lost her powers. It just seemed impossible; the witch who had created the veil didn't, she was a candidate of someone who would lose her powers. But still, Harry doubted that happened.

Lexi shrugged. "That's what I got from Alaric, and the guy says he's been keeping an eye on things."

Harry remained quiet, his mind still trying to work out how a witch could lose their powers; it scared him a little that that could happened. Magic was his life, without it he was a Muggle, without it there was nothing connecting him to his old world; without it his wand would just be a stick.

He would lose all he knew.

He couldn't have that, not one bit. He had to get out of this world before that ever happened, but there was still the matter of the veil, of Purgatory. He would be trapped if—at least he guessed—he died know. He had to find that way of ripping the veil, even for a little while, so there was ample opportunity for him to get out.

How would he play it though? However he played it, he was sure of one thing, he needed help.

He needed powerful allies.

* * *

Paraphrased Professor Severus Snape on the explanation for Occlumency.

Pyrfin, a spell I got off reading Harry Potter Forums, I got it off user, Auror Ferula's list of spells.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: The wait has been long, I know and apologise. I've been busy, tests of concepts I barely have a grasp of yet and I have to feign the knowledge of such concepts. Anyway, enough whining. I watched The Originals a few days ago, and I fell in love, which gave me enough of a push to start and finish this chapter. it as written in two days, and proofread only once, so there might be mistakes I've missed. Enjoy.

* * *

Hunter

Harry had thought and thought again, trying to work over the how he would have to go about gaining allies. He hadn't been much for making friends in his lives, the thought of endlessly going through loss each time he died was something Harry didn't want to go through, and so he had cut himself off.

Tying back the connection was proving to be the problem.

He had absolutely no idea at all at how to do it. Ghost were easy, they didn't have too many people they could talk to, and so they made easy friends. But those weren't the sort of allies Harry needed. For what Harry was planning, as abstract as it was at this point, Harry knew he needed powerful allies, witches, werewolves, or vampires—though in the long run they would have to be witches. A lot of witches.

But first things first, he needed to secure Mystic Falls.

Harry has spent a day thinking about the task the Ghost Witches of Mystic Falls had set for him, really thinking it over, and he'd come to the notion that it would rather be easier to circumvent the plans to kill the twenty-four innocents, if he knew who it was endangering their lives.

He stood from his seat. He had to speak to the Sheriff again, though this time he would have to go about it a different way. How? The daughter, she was her likely weakness; but said daughter was a vampire, a power house Harry could handle, but a powerhouse all the same. She was faster, stronger, and most likely ruthless—most vampires were as such as they went on in years—but most frightening of all, she had friends, and Harry knew the lengths friends could go to protect one of their own.

The town council then. The sheriff had said the town council were friends, many of them had gone to school with her if Harry remembered correctly, and he hoped he did. Therefore, he needed to use that, he needed to appeal to her on that count. He needed to make sure, though, that she was at least reading his book on Occlumency.

It was a day since he had sent it, but he was sure if the woman was not Compelled, she would make sure to have started doing the exercises. Harry hoped she was good enough to at least be able to ward of Compulsion, things would be better in the long run.

He thought about it, then turned on the spot, preparing to take a great risk.

He appeared in silence, around him the neat office of Sheriff Forbes, said woman was on her desk, focused intently on paperwork. She hadn't heard him yet.

Harry cleared his throat and quickly the woman looked up, her hand going instinctively for her gun.

"I'm not here to harm you, Lady Sheriff," Harry said, but he could hear the woman's heart beating thunderously. Harry had to hold himself back from going for his wand, and every part of him was telling him to get to it.

"What do you want?" the sheriff asked, her tone a bit shaky but all in all level. Harry liked her, this only further heightened this liking.

"A request," Harry said, smiling as he noted the black notebook on her desk, opened to a page Harry couldn't read. He wasn't immune to the spells effects unfortunately.

She calmed, her hands rising from her holster, her shoulders were still tensed though. "How did you get in here?" she asked.

Harry moved forward and took it, the sheriff sat rigidly against her chair, watching Harry.

"The same way I sent that book," Harry said.

"You're a witch," she said, though it still sounded like a question.

Harry tilted his head. "Yes and no," Harry said. "You could consider me a witch in the respect that I can do magic, but where I come from I'm known as a wizard, and I do prefer the term. How do you like it? The book?"

"It's interesting," she said.

"My gift to you," Harry said. "You can, in turn, give it to any you deem deserving, but not a vampire unfortunately. I couldn't leave that much power with an immortal, who knows what they would do with it."

"You don't like vampires?" she asked.

"I don't mind vampires," Harry said. "Just as long as they don't go off slaughtering, they can do what they do."

She nodded. "I asked before, what do you want?"

"Right, that. I want you to tell me about the investigation on the council's death." She looked a bit curious, so Harry went further. "I've been contracted, you could say, by a group of people that think the deaths of your council was not an accident."

"Oh?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"And so they sent you, because?"

"I'm one of the only few people they could come to in the matter."

"Why's that?"

"Extenuating circumstances I can't divulge without revealing more of my self than I already have," Harry answered.

"Unfortunately this is still an on-going police investigation, you can't have it."

"Would you give it to me otherwise?" Harry asked.

"No."

"May I ask why not?"

"For one, it would go against everything I believe in," the sheriff said, "everything I stand for as the sheriff of this town. Second, I don't know you. Mr Potter. I don't know whether or not it might be you who was responsible."

"So it wasn't an accident," Harry said. It was plausible, Harry thought. He shrugged. "You can't," he said, "and I'm afraid that I can't find in me anyway to show you otherwise."

"You must have known I would refuse to give you any information, so why did you come here? Honestly?"

"It was worth a try, and with the book I gave you, I thought you would at least consider the option. I can assure you, I mean no harm, and to prove this, I'm, willing to give you something. I'm unaware whether your daughter told you this, but there's a hunter in town. A hunter who isn't like me, one who kills vampires solely for being vampires.

"Caroline," the sheriff whispered, her voice filled with the full extent of her fear.

Harry nodded. "I know where he is," Harry said, "and I'm willing to give you his location."

"The catch?"

"None," Harry answered. "Your trust is something I'm hoping for in the long run, and I'm hoping to work at it. Another reason why I came to you today," Harry added.

"Okay," said the sheriff. "I'm still not telling you about the investigation."

Harry gave a nod. "As you please, but you should know, it would be very easy for me to steal whatever evidence you have."

"Now, you're just blatantly trying to manipulate me."

Harry nodded. "Intentional," Harry said as he stood. "Forewarning, I'll be casting a curse on your daughter and her boyfriend, it won't hurt her, but it will stop her gabbing about me. I may not hate vampires, but I don't trust them much."

"You know I could shoot you for even telling me that," she said, though without heat. She was learning, Harry thought, she was already working on controlling her emotions; something Harry had found most of his troubles in doing.

"It's good that you didn't," Harry said looking around the room. "With how small this room is, and how close you are, the bullet would ricochet and most likely hit you." She frowned, confused, but Harry didn't explain. Instead he walked to her desk and jotted down the address of one Connor Jordan, then turned on the spot, appearing in front of the hunter's mobile home. The truck was gone, it was the first thing Harry noticed, and so the hunter wasn't home.

Harry didn't like that.

He walked to the house, pulling his wand out of his pocket and pointed it towards the door; there was a click, then it flew open. Harry walked in, then suddenly stopped. Traps, everywhere, many obvious, and others so obvious they had to be decoys.

"Not safe," Harry muttered and stepped back. He did not need to die now.

He turned on the spot again, appearing in front of his home. He rushed inside, up the stairs, and into his study. He rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a small compass, it took on a slight blue glow as soon as it came in contact with Harry's hand, then began spinning with no clear direction.

I need to find the hunter. Harry focused on the thought, and finally the compass stopped spinning. He turned again, choosing a random spot in town, and appeared instantaneously; there was no one around, luckily, but Harry had gotten good at the Mind Arts over the years, and minor Memory Charms were something he could pull-off without a hitch. He looked at his compass, it glowed a little brighter, he was close, and Harry started walking in the direction it pointed.

Connor Jordan. The man was dangerous and unpredictable, Harry feared what would become of the man if he was put into a corner. Harry had wanted to control the corner he had forced unto the man, make sure he was in tight enough of a situation that he would need Harry's help, and that meant using the sheriff to send her daughter and her cohorts to take care of the hunter.

He was sure with that many vampires going after him, the hunter would resort to using the ring Harry had given him. Well, that was the plan, and it involved Harry telling the man of what was to come, hear say, he would say, and the hunter might feel indebted to him.

It was a hastily formed plan, but one Harry was sure would work. He wasn't all that good at manipulating people, but he had gotten quite good at playing situations to get what he wanted, and this would have been two birds with one stone. But now, Harry's other bird had flown the coop.

He couldn't have that.

Harry stopped and looked up as he heard a ruckus, talking and whispers around him. He was at a schoolhouse, and the compass was pointing straight it.

He walked forward, ignoring everything as he felt worry. Connor couldn't make the distinction between friend and foe, and Harry was more than worried that if it came to a fight between the hunter and vampires, the man would use anything to lure the vampires, even trying to kill another child.

Harry rushed through the door, then walked briskly down the halls, following as the point of the compass until he came to an empty hallway; the compass glowing to the point where Harry would consider it conspicuous.

He looked up and didn't hesitate; his hand flew up and a white spell shot out. Connor turned as if feeling it, but turned into it. He was tossed back by the force of the spell, and Harry heard the man wince as he landed with his still healing shoulder. Matt was looking at Harry was a shocked expression.

"Are you alright, mate?" Harry asked as he walked closer to the paler looking blond. Matt nodded, not speaking. Harry shoved the compass into his pocket, his wand still at the ready as he looked at Connor with disdain. "I'm really starting to not like you," Harry said shooting a glare at the man. "Do you really like accosting children that much? Coming to a school of all places," he muttered.

"You don't understand," said Connor, getting to his feet. "He knows who the vampires are, one has been feeding off him, I'm going to find it and kill, and so help me if you try to stop, I'm gonna kill you."

Harry snorted. "People a lot more powerful than you have tried," Harry said, but his attention was now more at Matt than the hunter. "Leave, Connor, before I decide to keep you prisoner for your crimes."

Conner grit his teeth, but walked forward so that he passed by Harry. "I will find a way to kill you," the man whispered as he passed.

"I forgive you," Harry said. "Remember that when you need my help."

Connor didn't say anything, shuffling forward, and Harry noticed that the man wasn't showing much discomfort for the shoulder that should still have hurt.

Curious, which was why Harry was so damn interested in the man.

"Matt, a vampire's feeding off you?" Harry saw the hesitation immediately. "You don't have to lie to me," Harry said. "I know, and I can help you if it's unintentional. Do you remember who did it?"

Matt didn't answer.

"I'll assume it a yes." Harry sighed. "Tell your friends of Connor, of his suspicion, then tell them to speak to the Sheriff, she knows where he is."

"Okay," said Matt with an uncertain nod.

"You should come by my house after school," Harry said. "I should have some manner of protection if ever a vampire takes it too far."

"Okay," he said again, though this time a lot firmer. "Thanks," he said.

"Not a problem, mate. Not a problem at all. You should get back to class, or whatever."

"School's done," said Matt.

"Really?" Matt nodded. "Then how would you like to accompany me to my lab."

"I've got practise," said Matt. "Football."

"Nothing more important," Harry said, his sarcasm clear. "You're afraid of me. You're scared that I might kill you. Fret not. I don't kill without cause. It's more likely that I'll save you than kill you, case and point, this, but if you want to feel save you can bring one of your vampires along. The blonde, or her boyfriend, I've been meaning to speak to them."

Matt hesitated.

"Or both, more powerful in numbers, and whatnot."

"Sure, I'll get them," Matt said and started walking off.

A trap. Harry thought. An obvious trap, but one no less. The vampires would be curious, they knew Harry had done something to their friends, but they would also be weary, more likely to trying and killing him. He could use that against them, he was hoping of course, all plans had something to do with luck in the end.

"Who are you?" the voice was that of a woman, Harry gathered himself of his thoughts. She was just a little taller than Harry, bright blonde hair, and was beautiful.

Vampire, Harry thought.

"I am Harry Potter," Harry said, his accent matching her own. "I would assume you would know me, it seems everyone does in this bloody town," he continued with a smile.

He extended a hand, she didn't take it.

"You're not a student, what are you doing here?"

"My daughter, Harry," said another voice, a man had appeared next to the woman.

The Original Hunter.

"Have care how you talk to her, she can get a little temperamental."

"Mutual, I should say, with you being so much older than me."

She smirked. "Knowledge many have died for knowing," she said. "Why shouldn't I kill you right now?"

"I am, you could say, family."

"Oh?"

Harry nodded. "Your father was my mentor," Harry said. "He trained me to be a hunter."

"You're lying," she said, moving so fast Harry had missed the motion; her hand was at his throat, and Harry groaned as he was slammed into a locker.

"I did tell you," Mikael said with a smug expression as Harry desperately tried to draw in air.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked her hands squeezing tighter around his throat.

"I can't—" Harry took in a haggard breath, "answer—like—this."

He was let go and he dropped to the ground, trying to fill in his lungs with as much air as he could manage.

"Well?"

Harry stood, and brushed himself off. "Truly an Original, and the clearly the sister of Niklaus Mikaelson."

"So you know my father and brother's names, that doesn't tell me who you are."

"Harry Potter, as I've said before, and really I was trained by your father." Harry quickly raised a hand before the Original moved. "If you attack me again, I will be aiming to hurt you."

She snorted. "I'm just going to kill you," she said, and moved again. Harry's hand came up, there was a flash and a bang, and Rebekah was stuck onto a locker, though she wasn't as blooded as Stefan had been when Harry had used the spell on him. Then again, Harry had tried to hold himself back in her case, though from the large dent in the locker—it had caved in so much so that it had cracked the wall behind it—it was clear he hadn't held back much.

"As I said, your father trained me, and he helped me come up with that particular spell. In case I fought your brother, he'd said."

"You're a witch," she said.

"A wizard," Harry corrected, "and a hunter. One of the most powerful hunters I daresay, what with your father's diligent training."

"You're here to kill my brother, aren't you?" she asked, there was fear in her voice as she asked this, love for her brother perhaps? From what Harry had heard from the man beside him, Niklaus was a cruel, cruel man, unlovable in every respect.

But then again, the man had also called his son an abomination. Harry didn't take the man's opinion about his son too seriously, there was the matter of Niklaus killing wolves though. Harry had loathed the man after hearing of those cases.

"No. I came here because of magic. It led me here in a trap to get me involved in things," Harry said. The Original looked confused. "It makes sense to some."

Harry waved his wand and the woman dropped to the ground, landing on her feet. "Now you're family," Harry said, "I consider you family, at least, so you have my protection. Be wary of the hunter, but please don't kill him, he's of interest to me."

She folded her arms and Harry smiled back at her slight scowl.

"Fine," she said. "I'll let you live," and she walked off.

Harry waved his wand and the slight dent popped back into place.

"She likes you," said Mikael.

"You think?" Harry asked.

Mikael shook his head. "Don't even think about it."

"I won't think about it, sure, but actions," Harry shrugged. "Where have you been hiding?"

"Here and there," said Mikael.

"You've been watching your son haven't you?"

"He's not my son," said Mikael with the amount of loathing he always had when speaking of Niklaus. "I didn't father that abomination."

Harry shook his head. "Like I've been telling you, you have to let go of that hate. It can't be good for you."

"I'm dead, Harry. Nothing can be bad for me."

"True. But I still wouldn't hold on to that much hate." Harry checked his watch, then remembered he didn't have one, and looked around, perhaps Matt had ditched him.

"And there I thought I'd made a friend," Harry said.

"Friends," said Mikael, "who needs them?"

"They do make life more bearable, fun even."

"I thought killing was fun," said Mikael. "I seem to remember you going to awful lengths to find vampires to kill."

"Rippers, Mikael. I know you had lost enough of your humanity that you couldn't make the distinction, but I can, and it was better for of all humanity."

"Who are you talking to?" another female voice, another blonde, another person Harry had missed.

"You're getting rusty," said Mikael.

"I know," Harry said with an amount of glumness. "I see dead people, love, I regularly talk to them. Unhealthy, yes, but what do I care about health? Where's Matt?"

"Staying away from you," she answered. "I was supposed to keep you restrained while the others took care of your hunter friend, but since you're a hunter who can take down an Original, I decided it was easier to just talk."

"Clever girl."

"So, dead people, how is that like?"

"Disconcerting when I first discovered it, but you get used to it, find ways of getting them off your back. Care for a walk? This place is me too nostalgic for my liking."

"Sure."

"So, you're comfortable being alone with me. I'm surprised."

"You saved April, and no matter what you've done since then, I could see the genuine worry I saw on your face when you had her in your arms. I don't think you're a killer."

"What I've done," Harry said. "You've noticed then?" She nodded.

"It's a bit conspicuous when you do it to three people. You bound their tongues with magic," she said making it sound more dramatic than the soundless, lightless spell Harry shot at them.

"Eerily specific," Harry said under his breath, she heard of course. "Who told you?"

"Not important," she said with a little smile. "What is important though, is what you're doing here."

"Starting a new life," Harry said.

"Why Mystic Falls?"

"This is the birthplace of vampires, I was curious to see it."

"The birthplace of your mentor," she added.

Harry nodded. "You know, I'm volunteering quite a lot by telling you this."

"You'll tie my tongue after it I assume," she said all blasé.

"It's for the best."

They finally turned and walked out of the school, it looked much emptier than when Harry had been walking in.

"Secrecy, I get it. You know we'd all be willing to keep your secret if you asked. Most of us aren't all that bad."

Harry shook his head. "I don't know you all that well to be trusting you."

"Well, we should fix that," she said.

"We should," Harry agreed.

Her phone rang. "Do you mind if I take this?" Harry shook his head. "Hello?"

"He escaped," the voice of the Ripper said from the other side. It sounded annoyed, very annoyed.

"What?"

"The hunter escaped, and he took down Tyler again. Luckily the bullets don't have the same effect on him or he'd be dead."

"How did he escape," she asked in a low whisper, though her eyes were on Harry.

"I think this is my cue."

"He had His help." Harry heard before feeling the small seconds of the compressive state, and landed on his driveway.

"Well that went well," said Mikael, appearing and walking beside Harry. "I thought you were trying to make friends," he said in that smug way only Mikael could pull-off.

"Shut up," said Harry. "Hunter!" Harry shouted as he entered his house. There wasn't an answer. Harry raised his wand to his throat. "Hunter!"

"No need to shout," said Lexi. "He's in the living room and he's bleeding everywhere."

Harry flicked his wand, and the woman was banished. "I don't trust her in our present predicament," Harry said to Mikael. "Spy on the vampires for me."

"I'm not one of your lackeys, Harry."

"You're not."

"I do this and you have to protect the rest of my children with your life," the man said.

"Twenty-one favours from you ought to do it, all without question."

"Fine," he said, much like his daughter had.

"A deal is made."

The man disappeared.

"Hunter," Harry said. The man lay on the floor, one of his arms badly broken, scratches across him. The man was badly hurt. "I heard you were attacked."

The man didn't answer, though slight groans kept escaping him.

"Rushed over to see if you were alright," Harry said. "Now aren't you grateful I don't hold a grudge," he said before shooting a Numbing Charm at the man, luckily it worked because he stopped groaning.

"Now we can talk, would I be correct to assume you've come to accept my mentorship?"

"No," Connor said.

Harry hummed. "Not very clever though. Personally, I would lie, say yes then when I was healed, run off and rebel."

The man twitched, trying to move, but when he noticed he couldn't, he said, "There's something you want from me," said the hunter. "I don't know what it is, but it's there. You won't let me die."

"Well, I could actually. Whatever you are, I'm sure you're not the only one out there. The universe doesn't work that way, or mother earth as I should say in this case. There are more, I'm sure, and given long enough, I'm sure I'll run into another. So letting you die here, I could do it without a second thought."

Though it would break his word to the witches, Harry thought. But, again, the way it had been implied, Harry was to stop twenty-four from dying in sets of two. The hunter didn't know of this, though, and Harry made sure to tell him.

"And how long is that going to take?"

Harry shrugged. "Time is something I don't worry too much about."

Connor snorted. "If you don't worry about time, why did you give me the deadline?"

"I wanted you flustered, to be honest. I thought if you had a deadline, you'd be quicker to come by my side. I was wrong, it seems, because not even two days later you were off accosting teenagers."

"A vampire's feeding off him."

"And by the looks of it the man is enjoying it. Who are we to interfere?"

"Hunters. We're hunters. We kill things like that."

Harry shook his head. "You are stubborn aren't you?"

"And you're soft. You don't hate them enough."

"Hate is an emotion I don't often dwell in," Harry said. "It's not all that good for you, of course it can't be entirely be avoided. But no less, I don't dwell. It's bad for your spiritual self and all that."

The hunter only snorted, though Harry saw some worry in the man's eyes. Connor was starting to look unfocused. "Right," Harry said standing. "I should get to healing you," then started a list of enchantments that would wade the hunter from death.

The Healing Arts were something Harry was not entirely good at, he'd tried to be diligent about it, tried practising them, but found he was really bored by them. Healing didn't have the excitement of Curses, Hexes, and Jinxes, it didn't the wondrous feeling of creation of Transfigurations, and it didn't have the subtlety of the Mind Arts. No, it just did its purpose.

But as long-lived as Harry was, he knew the importance of healing, and so he was at least mediocre in the craft.

With the severity of the hunter's wounds, Harry was at work for at least an hour, moving his wand in complicated patterns and muttering song-like spells under his breath.

Every passing second of that hour though, Harry was growing worried. Mikael should have been back, he thought. The man should have been back at least half an hour ago, telling Harry how the vampires were reacting to the hunter's escape.

Harry finally uttered the last spell, a sleeping spell powerful enough to pass over whatever innate magic the hunter had, and put the man into a healing sleep. Harry waved his wand and the man began floating off into one of the above rooms.

He hefted himself onto one of the clean sofa, working his wand in trying to clear the stain of blood on the floor, and clearing the air of the stale scent of blood which lingered. Connor seemed adamant that Harry should show him his skills, and though Harry didn't like to be manipulated, subtly or not, he couldn't see the harm. If Harry looked hard enough, he was sure he could find a vampire worth killing, and maybe when the man saw this he'd be more likely to want to be trained by Harry, giving the wizard a guise to studying him.

You could of course do this now, said some part of his mind, the part that didn't care too much of convention. Nothing is really holding you back, it continued, the only barrier you have is yourself.

"True," Harry said, "but I like being able to sleep at night, and putting someone under the Imperious Curse is something that will hound me for most of my days." Because Harry had not been able to forget every instance he had been forced to use the Unforgivables, even if it was for the greater good.

Call it a test then, his mind continued. Let's test to see whether his magic, the same magic that can rebound Stunners and make him shake-off Impact Hexes like their nothing, will dampen the effects of at least the Imperious Curse.

"I doubt it," Harry said.

But you're not sure, and that's what we're looking to find out, isn't it? Whether or not your hypothesis is correct?

Harry shook his head, quieting the voice before it made too much sense. He stood and chose to focus on Mikael's absence instead. The man should have been back, what could have stopped him?

Harry didn't care.

"Mikael," it was a moment before the man appeared. He looked a little haggard, not physically, but there was something about him, as though he had lost a part of himself. Harry didn't understand, but the closest he could think of the man's state, was black and white against the backdrop which was the world.

"What happened?"

"A ghost," Mikael said. "At least I think it was a ghost. The man could see me, and I him, he could touch me, and he was stronger than me."

"Alaric," Harry muttered under his breath.

"You know him?"

"No, not know per se, but I loaned a friend of his my ring, and it seems when he summoned the ghost he parted the veil around the man." Harry sighed. "I thought nothing of loaning the ring, thinking it useless, a trinket I kept for nostalgic sake, but no I'm beginning to regret it. What did he do to you?"

"Well, we fought, then the next thing I know I feel like I'm fading from the world, like he's draining my life," and Mikael spoke before Harry could get word in. "Yes, I know, I'm dead, but all the same it's what it felt like."

Harry nodded, musing the idea over, trying to draw theories on what might have happened. Alaric had been summoned by the Stone of Resurrection, a powerful magic crafted by Death. The veil to the Other Side had been crafted by a witch, no matter how powerful a witch was, Harry didn't think they could be powerful enough to outmatch Death, which made sense given the stone was able to break the normal rules of Purgatory, namely that you couldn't see other ghost and they couldn't see you. But what of this new discovery, that the stone also made the summoned ghost stronger than other, and he took some of their 'life' if he fought them?

"So I assume you didn't get anything?" Harry asked and the man scowled. "No, then. I'll be calling your almost re-killer in if you want to clear off," the man shook his head. "Suit yourself then."

"Alaric," Harry said.

Nothing happened.

Harry frowned, but tried again. "Alaric," he said, louder.

Nothing happened.

"Strange," Harry said. "I think my power may not be working," was this the stone again? But how could it block him? He was its master, what he wanted was above all else important.

"I think it was about time to spy on the vampires by myself," Harry said.

Spying on vampires. One of the trickiest things there was, sound, sight, scent were his enemies when it came to them. He started with his first spell, he tapped himself with his wand and it felt like a gale force wind washed over him, the spell would afford him thirty minutes without scent; another spell which layered him with a quieting charm; and finally, because he didn't want the slightest chance of someone seeing his Disillusioned self, he procured his Cloak of Invisibility from his vault.

"Open your mind, if you would, think of the place where they were. Legillimens." Harry said, his wand pointed at the ghost, he got the picture and turned on the spot appearing in a neat living room.

"It stopped," Alaric was saying on Harry's arrival—Harry noted that the man looked better than the last time he had seen him, he looked brighter, more tanned, certainly brighter when compared to Lexi standing next to him. There were six of them, Lexi, Alaric, the Ripper and his brother, Elena Gilbert, and a dark-skinned young woman who looked to be Elena's age.

"He'll want to investigate," said Lexi, the message then relayed by Alaric. "You should have disappeared here and appeared in front of him, that's what usually happens. How did you resist it?"

The ghost shrugged. "Don't know."

"Alaric, ask Lexi if this guy's a threat," said Damon.

"She can hear you, Damon."

Lexi shook her head. "You should tread lightly," Lexi said, then message the relayed by Alaric. "He's powerful."

"Do you know anything about him?" the question was asked by Elena and it was directed at the girl Harry didn't know. "About his brand of magic?"

The girl shook her head. "I've never heard of anything like him," she said. "I'd ask the spirits, but they aren't all that talkative."

"What use is a witch with no magic?" asked Damon, clearly annoyed, the man artfully ignored the scowls being shot at him by the girl and his brother.

"Isn't there a way you could get your magic back?" the Ripper asked.

The girl, Harry didn't try to think of her name less he miss something important, hesitated, then said, "There's a guy who knew grams, he has some of her things, maybe I can find something there that will help me."

"I'll come with you," said Elena, and she laid a comforting hand on the girl, she drew a small smile.

"Ditto," said Damon, looking at only Elena, his brother scowled but said nothing. "Might as well get Elena's training underway."

"In the meantime what do we do?" asked Elena.

"We stay ready, we don't know what this guy wants in town, but with him being buddies with the hunter, we can't put it past him that he could be out to kill us all. We steer clear until Bonnie has her powers and breaks his…break what he did."

Harry turned on the spot before any of them could move, appearing in his living room.

Things were getting exciting again, and with precious few allies, he had to make sure the hunter, and at least Rebekah Mikaelson were in his corner.

Not now though, Harry was hungry and tired, he hadn't eaten most of the day and he was running on empty. He ate, then relaxed on his bed for a while, looking at the ceiling and thinking.

Lexi was right. The witch had lost her magic. It was disconcerting to think about, that something you were born with could just be taken away. Harry shivered, he really needed to start gathering those witches. He needed power of this world in case it ever came to a witch stripping him of his own magic.

Finally he slept.

"Hunter," Harry said with a jovial tone, the wizard had three tomes beside him, all reading on this world's mythical lore, knowledge he'd gathered and some he'd been offered by Mikael.

"Wizard," the hunter said with a scowl. "Why was I naked?"

Harry snorted. "Good morning too you too, hunter, though it is getting much closer to the afternoon, and it was my pleasure to heal, there is no need to be thankful," Harry said.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. You haven't answered my question."

"Your clothes were sodden with blood, and even with magic, it is a chore to clean. There's breakfast in the kitchen if you're hungry, and you'd better eat, were leaving for New York in a few hours."

"What?"

"Well, you wanted to see me in action, remember? I have decided to give you that demonstration." Harry had been busy all morning, searching for a sloppy vampire, and signs were pointing towards New York. Harry also hoped he would run into a lone witch there, an inexperienced one who would jump at the chance to be taught magic.

"Why New York, there are vampires here."

"Because the vampire in New York is sloppy. There have been eight reported missing in two weeks, the police have no leads, and they don't have a clear pattern, nothing. Clearly the work of a vampire, it could be new, or it could be a Ripper, either way it's something to investigate. Breakfast's in the kitchen," Harry said again as he heard the hunter's stomach groan.

Harry continued his reading, roving through theories that could explain to him the extant of Expression, he had yet to have any luck.

The hunter joined him with his breakfast, and Harry stopped the man from touching his tomes. "Those books are old," Harry said. "If you get oil on them I will break your fingers."

"What are they?"

"Lore," Harry answered. "I like studying magic, it's a hobby of mine, and these are tomes on magic I've come across the years."

The hunter scanned through the books, making sure not to touch them. "Latin?" Harry nodded. "Japanese?" Again Harry nodded.

"I'm also trying to learn French, increase my repertoire," Harry said.

The hunter nodded, downing his breakfast. "How did you find out about my attack?" the hunter asked.

"I was having a chat with one of the vampires, she was trying to get me to trust her. It didn't work out to well when she found out I am the reason you escaped after shooting?" Connor nodded. "Her boyfriend."

"He isn't dead though," said Connor regretfully.

"I daresay she would have killed me were she able."

"And you still think they're not all evil?"

Harry nodded. "Circumstance," Harry said. "In their eyes we are evil, we threatened their lives and those they loved, so they will be gunning for us. Which is why we need to be acting together."

"Working towards what? You say you can kill these vampires and yet you don't, so when you say work together I don't get what we would be working towards."

"Well there's your magic for one," Harry said. Connor didn't look at that shocked, so Harry assumed he knew. "I want to know its full extant. There other types of magic I want to learn about as well, but since you're in front of me and I don't know about your magic, I want to learn about you."

"My magic," the hunter said, then snorted. "You're saying I could be a witch too?"

Harry shook his head. "You don't have the aura of a witch," Harry said, "and if you were, the spirits of your ancestors would be flocking around you."

"How can you be sure they aren't?"

Harry shrugged. "I see dead people," that did surprise the hunter though.

"You see dead people?" he asked sceptically.

Harry chuckled. "We live in a world where vampire and werewolves exist, and that I can see ghosts you are sceptical about? Sort of a double standard is it not?" The hunter didn't answer. "In any case you're not a witch, you're something different."

"Which is why you're interested in me?"

Harry nodded.

"We should get going," Harry said, standing. "I have other things to do besides this vampire."

"How are we getting there?"

"Apparating," he said. "In all respects it is teleportation, except the name."

"Why don't you just call it, teleportation?"

"I grew up with it being called, Apparition, some habits are hard to pass. I'll just get my gun and we'll be off," Harry said before walking off upstairs.

Harry grabbed his gun, holster, and then popped back downstairs, the hunter was dutifully waiting for him; he was interested, and that was Harry's way in.

"Hand on my shoulder and don't let go until you can breathe."

He felt the hunter's hand on his shoulder, then turned on the spot.

They appeared with a slight pop in an alley, Harry took out his compass and looked at it.

"There's quite a bit of walking involved, if you'll follow me," and the two began walking, moving. "So how did you become a hunter?" Harry asked, in an effort to start a conversation.

"A friend of my saw potential in me," Connor answered.

"Friend? I wouldn't think anyone who would bring you into this life of danger to be a friend," Harry said. "But then again, I considered the man who trained me to be a friend."

"Who trained you?"

"A great but flawed man," Harry answered.

"That isn't telling me much."

"I'm only returning the favour, there isn't much you've told me as well, like this magic of yours. You know about it?"

"I do," said Connor. "I'm a hunter," the man said.

"I know that."

"No, I'm a Hunter. I was born a potential, and the friend of mine noticed this. He told me I was like him, born to kill vampires. I thought he was crazy at first, but there were signs I couldn't ignore."

"What sort of signs?"

"A tattoo, for one, that only he and I could see."

"A tattoo?" Harry stopped. "Where is this tattoo?" The man held up his right hand, and Harry couldn't see anything. "And this tattoo is the source of your power?"

Connor shrugged. "I don't know," he said, and the hunter started moving. "When I killed my first vampire the tattoo appeared on me too, and so came the benefits as well, I was faster and stronger. Then there was the Compulsion. Every time I'm close to a vampire I have to kill it, its mere existence shakes me to my core."

"A Compulsion? You know Occlumency can help you with that?"

"Occlumency?"

"An art to block the mind against intrusion, it ensures I can't be Compelled."

"I can't be Compelled either," said Connor. "One of the perks of being a Hunter."

"Lucky," Harry said. "Being Compelled, I imagine, is disconcerting. Still I should teach you Occlumency, it will help against that Compulsion you feel whenever you're close to vampires, maybe you might have a change in your outlook towards them."

"Unlikely," said the hunter.

"I can't be sure that isn't the Compulsion talking," Harry said.

They turned a corner and came to the sight of an abandoned house, it was old and creepy looking, with shut doors and boarded windows.

"Do you feel any vampires in there?" Harry asked Connor, the hunter shook his head.

"It doesn't work that way," he said. "I can't sense them."

"It would have been a convenient if you could," Harry said. He pulled out his wand, and walked into the property. "Repello Muggletum," he muttered under his breath. "A spell to keep out Muggles," Harry explained.

"Right, you're not big on the whole humans being killed thing," said Connor.

"True. I hope that is the Compulsion at work, we should really start those Occlumency lessons. How about now. No matter how much you feel the urge to kill this vampire, don't. We'll see how hard it is and start from there."

"What's the harm," said Connor though he sounded resigned.

"Super." Harry flicked his wand towards the door and it was blasted open, shattering into pieces. The two of them walked in; the house was dark and dank, cold and lightless, and it would have been hard to see if Harry did not have below supernatural sight. But the hunter beside him was having trouble, Harry lit his wand, filling the passage they stood in with a dim light.

There was a room to the left, a study with broken desks and bookcases, but it was empty. There was another to the right, leading to a living room, it looked in better condition, but it had the smell of blood to it. Old blood, maybe two to three days old.

Harry looked at his compass, and it pointed to the back. They walked in silence and finally came to a fortified steel door looking to lead into a lower floor. Harry tapped it with his wand and it slid silently open, it looked newer than the entire house. There were stairs leading down and Harry descended, making sure each step made as little sound as possible, there was another door at the bottom. Harry repeated, opening it with an Unlocking Charm.

It was a bedroom, there was a bed in the far end and a pile of books beside it. There were posters of rock bands Harry didn't recognise on the wall, lit by the low light from his wand.

"That's the vampire?" asked Connor from behind Harry.

The wizard looked at his compass, its point was stuck firmly on the lump sleeping on the bed.

"Well let's get this over with." Harry flicked his wand and the door closed with a bang.

The lump jumped and landed in front of them; a spell shot from Harry's wand and slammed into the vampire. The boy, nineteen or twenty, was instantly engulfed by fire, his screams tearing across the basement room before he fell to the ground, a smouldering husk.

"I was hoping for a more exciting fight, but," Harry shrugged. "There, I killed a vampire, so I ask you, hunter, can I consider you an ally now?" Harry looked into the man's eyes, looking for any deceit.

"Yes," the hunter said.

Harry beamed. "Super," he said. "We should be getting back to Mystic Falls, and we'll begin your true lessons of Occlumency."

The hunter nodded and laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry turned on the spot.

"Take a few minutes to get ready," Harry said, walking outside. "I've taken the precaution of erecting barriers which will keep you in the property, I can't trust that your compulsion towards vampires won't have you accosting teenagers again."

"What sort of relationship are we going to have if you don't trust me, wizard?" the hunter asked as Harry headed for the door.

"It's not you I don't trust, it that compulsion of yours, not that I knew this when I erected them this morning, but it was a just precaution."

Harry walked out of the house, the hunter still in tow.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to try and salvage relations with the vampires, I'm hoping the sheriff wasn't spilled anything yet." And Harry turned on the spot, appearing in the sheriff's office.

It was empty, which Harry found surprising, but the woman was a police officer, so she probably was still in the field, doing her job. Harry turned again, appearing outside the station and walked in using the front door. Harry's favourite offer officer sat behind the front desk.

"Officer, how are you today?"

"I'm doing well, Mr Potter," the man said.

"You know my name?"

"Yes, sir. Sheriff Forbes said you might be coming in today. She asked if you could wait until she arrived."

Harry shrugged. "What's the harm?"

"Cool, follow me," and Harry followed, and didn't even bother to comment that he was being led to wait in a holding cell. "I'm sorry but I can't let you into the sheriff's office while she isn't there," the man said and from his tone Harry thought that he meant it.

"Not a problem, my good man, though I wouldn't mind a spot of tea."

The man nodded and left, closing the door behind him. Harry revelled in the silence, some time to think on his hunter business. The man was magic, that much had been clear to Harry from their first fight, but which brand of magic was something he hadn't been all that sure about. Well now he knew. The man was a Hunter, with magic deliberately suited for fighting vampires, it certainly explained why the man's punch had hurt so much in their fight. But he also had a compulsion to kill vampires whether he wanted to or not, this also explained why the man was so adamant that all vampires were monsters; why he couldn't discern between good and bad.

He could make the man overcome this, he was sure; then he would have, on his side, someone who was least likely to be caught off guard by vampires, something which had annoyed Harry above all else in his long life. But Connor had made an enemy of the vampires in Mystic Falls, and because of the man they regarded Harry as a threat they needed to take down; with resources like theirs, the mayor and the sheriff, they had a chance of winning and killing him. Harry couldn't die yet, there was still that pesky veil he needed to think about, and now that he knew his magic could be taken away, Harry didn't want to be on the other side with the witches.

The tea came in, and again Harry was left to his silence. Harry took a sip.

He knew the answer lay in Expression. It was the most powerful form of magic Harry had seen so far, and if there was a way to break the veil, he knew it would lay within this form of magic. He didn't know enough though, and knowledge, in many respects, was power.

Harry took another sip, yawning a little.

He was starting to feel tired, which was to be expected given Harry had been up before sunrise and gotten to work. He'd set-up new wards around the house, to keep out all ghosts, whether or not they meant Harry harm; what Alaric had done, resisting his call, had not left Harry. It was not often that Harry was confused, but this matter with the ghost. It was new. It was a mixture of Harry's own brand of magic and that of this world, and together Harry didn't know what they would reap.

Harry took another sip, the edges of his vision darkening. "Crap," he muttered before everything went black.


	6. Chapter 6

Brother

The darkness was starting to fade. Harry could feel as it edged away, giving him mind enough room to think; but it was a slow going process, and Harry estimated he still had a lot more time in this state of forced sleep before he was finally awake. Till then, all Harry had to do was wait.

He waited, not feeling any time pass, and trying to push away the edges of darkness which still clung to the edges of his mind.

How did we get into this one? One of the voices of his mind piped up as Harry was starting to feel himself bored. Last I remember we were having tea, then this.

We were drugged, I reckon, Harry thought. He snorted. It was strange, but this is the first time anyone had ever thought to drug his drink, most people just couldn't resist taking him on in a show of brute strength, with the term being relative of course. Harry had to admit it was refreshing to be caught off guard.

How long do we have till we wake up?

Harry shrugged, at least he thought he did—which meant since it was his mind he had. Don't know, new experience and all that. But it shouldn't be too long, he thought, I can almost hear the outside. Harry occupied himself with trying to push back the darkness again, extending his mind; there was still too much of whatever drug was in his system for him to just start awake.

Who do you think did it? Drugged us, I mean.

You're my own mind, of course I know what you mean, Harry thought. He might have acted ignorant of his impending insanity, but he knew it was there. The voices helped him think, though, they helped him gain a new perspective on things he would have over looked were his thoughts solely his own.

Double-edged sword, that. I know your thoughts as well.

True, Harry thought, and left the thought at that—though in the recesses of his mind, were all his most cherished memories were locked away in a vault guarded by a dragon, a troll, and a giant; Harry thought, that's what you think isn't it?

Well, we were thinking about who did this to me weren't we? There was a nod, coming from somewhere. There vampires are rattled, they could be the cause of all this.

There was a snort. Bit of a stretch isn't it? The vampires decided to fight you with magic, they couldn't have been the cause of all this.

With their numbers they could have, Harry returned. It would be easy, especially if the sheriff told her daughter about me.

Or she could have just done the deed herself.

Why would she do that?

Your threat to curse her daughter, that you're apparently friends with the hunter who almost killed her to be son in law, twice, or because you're a witch—Merlin, now they've got me doing it. There a whole lot of reasons she should would have done it.

Okay, so she's a possibility, anyone else? Anyone we could be missing?

The mayor, his mind voice said. She's been suspiciously silent given it was her child that was almost killed.

Harry nodded. He knew mothers, the lengths they would go to protect their children, and for the mayor to be a non-player in a time like this seemed very unlikely. She could be up to this, and with her mayor status, it would be easy for her to get one of the police to slip something into his drink. But all this was just a theory until he woke up.

He pushed the edges of the darkness again, and felt them slip. Felt them move back until the darkness broke; his eyes flew open, his head snapped back, and he winced as his eyes were flooded by the light of the setting sun.

"Half the day," Harry muttered. "Well it isn't thirty years."

He looked around, he was in a room, boarded on all sides by aged art. It was beautiful sight when taken together, though most were either dark or empty, lonely Harry would term them. His eyes moved away from the room and to himself, he was sitting on a chair, his arms cuffed to the side.

Harry looked at the cuffs and let out a drawn out sigh, cuffed to a chair was something he didn't like. Well, being held in general was something he didn't like. Harry liked his freedom, and anyone who took it away from him was someone Harry already held ire towards.

Harry closed his eyes, calming the agitation he felt at the cuffs, which was very hard because it felt like they were poison ivy. He took a few breaths, easing his uneasiness, then stretched out his mind, trying to feel the call of the Elder Wand which was supposed to be in his pocket. He didn't feel anything, which downright made Harry worried; without his wand, he was useless. He couldn't do wandless magic, it was a sort of clause within Harry himself. When he had been young, he had been ruled by his emotions, which was the reason why he had found Occlumency hard to grasp. But with diligence, Harry had been able to put a stop to that. Occlumency had meant control over his emotions, but Harry, ever over-zealous, had taken it too far.

Wandless magic was sort of a form of controlled accidental magic, and accidental magic needed more emotion than Harry was willing to give without losing the grasp he had of his Occlumency barriers, and so his point of being useless without a wand was true.

Of course, Harry could still fight, and he could still Apparate.

But with him being cuffed, those two skills were moot. Now he had to depend on his wit.

How could he get out of here? The easy answer were the witches, Harry was sure they had some sort of magic which would liberate Harry from his cuffs. But he didn't want to be further indebted to the witches, who knew what they would get him to do this time. He had to figure out another way, but it wouldn't come easy, that much he knew.

Harry waited, watching the beauty of the sight of the setting sun, though with each passing second he could feel his irritation keep on building; his arms would gradually twitch, and the cuffs would dig into him every time. Harry had to grit his teeth in order to get his mind in order, to actually start thinking, but he couldn't do it. The cuffs filled the entirety of his mind, that they were keeping him from standing up, that they were keeping him from his freedom.

Harry hated it, and with every second that he couldn't stand, he was starting to get desperate. He started considering thoughts of calling the witches to get him out of this bind, but there was still his wand which was not with him. If he left now, then he wouldn't know who had his wand, and that would make it all that much harder to get it back.

There was a card he could play though, one which he hadn't had much chance to talk to but this seemed the perfect time.

"Alaric," Harry said, it hadn't worked before, but maybe now it could. "Alaric," he tried again. "Alaric. Alaric. Alaric."

The man appeared, and he looked haggard. He looked around, surprised, but his eyes finally got to Harry. "You called me here," the man said, he didn't sound excited. "How?"

"The question I should be asking, is how you resisted my call yesterday," Harry said. "But that isn't the point, I need your help, as you can see."

"I can," the man said looking around. He chuckled. "You're in trouble now."

"You know where I am?"

The man didn't answer, only smirking as he took in the room in further detail.

"As I said, I need your help," Harry said.

"Why should I help you?"

Harry's hand twitched, but he pushed down his irritation turned anxiety and tried to think straight. He needed to think, and these cuffs, he pulled against them and winced, weren't helping matters. Leverage, he thought, what did he have which might change this man's allegiance, at this point, nothing. But he could threaten.

"Because you get to speak with your friends," Harry said, that got the man's attention. "It is my ring which grants you the luxury, and it is I who can take it away from you."

"You can take it away?" the man asked, his voice was cool but his eyes held some trepidation. He snorted. "I know a bit about magic rings," said Alaric, "and I know that you can't do anything as long as Damon has that ring of yours."

Harry shook his head. "My magic doesn't work that way," Harry said. "I told Damon I could take back the ring at any time, for any reason. I know I can't physically take back the ring, but I can take back its power. The same power which makes sure you aren't fully back on the Other Side."

The man hesitated, but Harry could hear muffled footsteps coming their way. "Lexi told me she could see you, how many others can, besides ghosts?" The footsteps were coming closer, and the man was stalling Harry noticed. "Disappear, when I call, I expect you back here."

The man didn't hesitate in disappearing.

The door opened, and Harry waited for the appearance of his captor. He appeared, and Harry's heart almost stopped at the sight of him. He hadn't been expecting him of all people.

"Niklaus Mikaelson," Harry said. What a time to be caught cuffed and wandless.

"You know who I am?" the Original asked, it was as though Harry had stroked the man's ego. "Good, then this will make things simple. You will tell me what I want to know or I will kill you."

"Then what do you want to know?" Harry asked, "And can we please get these handcuffs off, you're a vampire, anything I try you'll catch and you'll have ample time to stop."

Niklaus shook his head. "I'm told you can teleport, though I haven't heard of a witch—"

"Wizard," Harry corrected.

"—that can teleport, I thought if you couldn't stand, turn on the spot, then you wouldn't be able to teleport."

"I'm guessing you lot noticed that then," Harry said, he had to work on that, but it was the fundamental basis of Apparition, he couldn't just break that, as pesky as it was.

"Kind of obvious, from what Caroline and Tyler say." The man smirked at Harry's forlorn expression.

"What do you want to know, Niklaus?"

"The pesky hunter who almost killed one of my hybrids, you know where he is, tell me."

"He is in my home," Harry said. "I've kept him prisoner for the time being, he suffers from lack of impulse control. Now will you let me go?"

"I'm not done," said Niklaus. "Far from it witch, I'll be getting the hunter," and Niklaus stalked off, Harry left to listen to his retreating footsteps. "Watch him, and don't go into the room," he heard the man say, "he's a witch, and they can be dangerous, even to us."

"Quite the bind," Harry muttered. He had a watch, that meant they would hear him if he called Alaric. But in this case they knew he was a wizard, and if Caroline had divulged that he could see dead people, then calling Alaric wouldn't surprise them.

"Alaric," the man appeared, he didn't look like he liked it. "I asked you before, who can see you. I expect the answer."

"Vampires, witches and hybrids," said Alaric.

Harry took a breath, "Then the hybrid outside this room can most likely hear you," Harry muttered. "But at this point I have nothing to lose in showing my cards. I need you to go to my house, Lexi," the woman appeared, she looked around, surprised. "I need you to show Alaric, here, where my house is. Alaric, I need you to tell the hunter to stay inside, at whatever cost. Keep him in if need be."

"Why?" it was Lexi who asked. "What the hell is going on?"

"I'm being held hostage, as you can notice, I'm trying to think this through as I go, could you please do this for me?"

She nodded. "Follow me," she said to Alaric, then both of them disappeared.

Now how to get out of all this. The hybrid would tell Niklaus of Harry's plans, and Niklaus would be pissed once he saw he couldn't make it into Harry's house. Harry expected pain at the very least, he wasn't looking forward to that.

Harry sat, watching as it gradually got darker and darker, and the stars came alight. He took a glance at his wrists, they were getting red and they would get darker if Harry wasn't released from his cuffs.

Lexi appeared. "It's done," she said. "The hunter agreed to stay inside." But there was something in her tone that Harry didn't quite get, not that he cared.

"What took so long?"

"When he saw Klaus and knew what he was, he flipped, in second he was carving stakes preparing for a fight. Stopping him was a chore, it's lucky Alaric can touch things in the real world."

"He can?" Harry asked. "Interesting. But at this point I don't care about interesting, Niklaus will be here very soon, and knowing what I know about the man, I know he will torture me. I don't know if you've ever been torture, but it hurts terribly. Why is he here? Which one of you friends was stupid enough to call Niklaus, bloody, Mikaelson?"

"It's not like you've given them much of a choice, Harry," she said. "Think about it from their perspective, with your help, a man who almost killed one of them escaped."

"A man they wouldn't have known where to find without my help," Harry responded, there was heat in his voice. "Lexi, have you ever known me to just kill? Merlin, you're one of the few people who knows me well enough that I don't kill without a cause. Why would I be conspiring to kill your friends?"

That seemed to anger her. "How do you think I would know this?" she asked. "If you haven't noticed, Harry Potter, you haven't been talking to me lately! You've been hiding things from me! I came to you first when the hunter escaped, and what did you do? You banished me! Banished me, Harry! I could accept that with the witches, but not this."

Harry felt a moment of guilt, but he quickly pushed in down; this wasn't the time. He let out a sigh. "Can we talk about my trust issues later? Right now I have to figure a way to get out of here," Harry said.

"Use your wand."

"I can't, it was taken. I need you to find out where it is." She nodded then disappeared. Harry waited, his heart beating fast at every second he felt that Niklaus would be coming here, obviously pissed off.

Harry heard footsteps, then prepared for the worst. "He keeps talking to himself, I heard someone in there talking him, a guy he called Alaric, but I thought it might be his magic or something."

There was sigh, an exasperated sigh, then the door was forcefully opened.

"You have protection around your house," the man stated, coming to a stop in front of Harry. He looked miffed, and in Harry's current position, he didn't want the Original Hybrid miffed.

Harry nodded. "I don't have a lot of friends," Harry said. "I have to make sure my house is my sanctuary, even if I've invited a few vampires in for a party."

Niklaus nodded, there was a calculating look to his eye, the same one Harry had seen many times in the eyes of Mikael; the man might have overly lamented that Niklaus was no son of his, but the two shared many similarities. One being both wanted Harry in their court, Harry could use that.

"How do I get in?" asked Niklaus.

"You can't go in without me," Harry said, "and some stuff of mine which you took."

His wand was gone, and from what he could feel, so were his gun and compass, the latter two he didn't care about, but his wand; it was most important. He hoped Niklaus didn't know about it, but there wasn't a chance that could have happened, the Ripper, the Gilbert girl, and Damon Salvatore, were the only vampires who knew that he worked with his wand, and none of them could talk.

"Sounds suspiciously like a trap," said Niklaus.

"It is, but you don't have much a choice in this matter," Harry returned. "If you want the hunter, then, you'll have to release me."

"Or I could kill you," said Niklaus. "Magic is pesky, but it has one, large flaw; the caster needs to be alive for a spell to keep working."

Harry chuckled, but it was clear to both Niklaus and Harry that the chuckle was fake. "You won't kill me, Niklaus. Because, though you may not think it, I know that look in your eyes well. You are interested in me, in the sort of power I have. You want to use me for some reason, and that would be impossible if I were dead."

"How exactly do you know me?"

"I know a few wolf clans, they fear you," Harry said, which was the truth, though it didn't answer Niklaus' question. Harry had first heard of the man from his father.

"My reputation precedes me," Niklaus said, and Harry couldn't help thinking the man had quite the ego.

"It does. Now, knowing what I know about you, could you let me out of these restraints?"

"Fine, but if you go against me, I will not hesitate to kill you."

"You've threatened to kill me three time. Numbers have their own sort of magic, so I consider myself forewarned."

Niklaus hummed, pulling out a silver key from his pocket and popping open the cuffs. Harry let out a breath of relief, feeling a weight lifting from his shoulder, and the world righting itself around him. He no longer felt as agitated as he had been a minute ago, and he felt a lot more tight-lipped.

"Why don't we have a little walk and talk?" Niklaus said, grabbing Harry by the scruff of his clothes and hauling him to his feet. He quickly changed positions and grabbed Harry by the collar bone, making sure his fingers dug in. Harry grit his teeth in, but didn't let the wince slip through.

"Sure," Harry said, not like he had much of a choice in the matter. "Why not?"

"Tell me a little about yourself, Harry Potter," the hybrid said, leading Harry from the room. They exited, and for the first time Harry saw his guard, it was a short man with dark hair and unassuming clothes. He shot at Harry a calculating look as he passed, but Harry couldn't help but note that the man looked at bit disappointed.

"What do you want to know?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, tell me about the trinkets I found on you. The gun, the compass, and the stick which looked exactly like a wand."

Harry didn't answer for a moment, thinking this through, weighing the options between a lie and the truth. He couldn't come out with a way out, there was absolutely nothing he could do short of calling the witches, and Harry really didn't want to do that.

"How about this," Harry started. "You ask, I answer, and vice versa."

"And what reason would I accept those terms?" Niklaus asked.

"Well, I think you want something from me," Harry said, remembering the same thing being said to him, and also remembering the results. "I think it may be power, a wizard on your side would be a powerful ally."

Niklaus chuckled. "If you haven't already notice, I have an army of hybrids, a witch is not something I really need."

"But you're interested nonetheless," Harry said, "and I believe it's why you would be open to answering some of my questions."

"Point," said Niklaus, the man smiled. "Call it a little bonding exercise."

"We can, a deal is made then?" Niklaus nodded. "You wanted to know about my trinkets; the stick, as you said, is my wand; the gun is obviously a gun; and the compass I use to look for things. How did you find out about the whole hybrid-hunter business?"

"Surprisingly, it was Mayor Lockwood who told me," said Niklaus. "But then again, the lengths any mother would go to protect her child can be very surprising."

"I know that full well," Harry muttered under his breath.

Niklaus looked to ignore the statement. They turned a corner, Harry taking in as much detail as possible in case he needed to manually search for his wand, because Lexi was taking too long.

"My turn," said Niklaus. "What are you doing in Mystic Falls?"

Skirt the truth, Harry thought. "Nostalgia's sake," Harry said.

"Specifics would be nice."

"I heard through hearsay, that this might be the place the Spell of Immortality was first casted, as a wizard I find aesthetics like that interesting."

"The spell created by my mother," Niklaus said with an amount of pride.

"Yes. Your mother. I hear she was a very extraordinary witch."

"That she was," Niklaus mused softly. He pushed open a door, leading Harry to dining room, and Harry couldn't help that his mind went blank as his sight fell on the amount of food on the table. "I thought you might be hungry."

"Famished," Harry said, for the first time moving forward of his own volition. Niklaus loosened his grip on Harry, though still leading the wizard to the table. He snapped his fingers when Harry sat, one of his hybrids, a dark-skinned woman with short hair, walked into the room.

"Take a hold of his shoulders," he told the hybrid. "He can move, but don't allow him to stand."

The hybrid nodded, then dutifully did as she was told. Niklaus moved to the other side of the table and took a seat, watching Harry with a look Harry knew too well. For all that Mikael had lamented that Niklaus was not his son, the two of them shared more similarities than they thought. The look Niklaus was shooting at Harry, was definitely the same one Mikael had shown the first time the Original had seen Harry fight a vampire.

"You know," Harry said, after swallowing; he had put politeness aside and started the meal, he was too hungry to give them too much thought. "I had thought you would be pissed I hadn't told you about my wards."

"Oh, I am," said Niklaus.

"Then I thought you would torture me, or something to that effect."

Niklaus shook his head, then poured himself a glass of a thick, velvet liquid which looked suspiciously like blood. He then took a gulp. Harry didn't pay it any mind, too focused on quelling the beast of his stomach which was demanded food.

"I thought about it on the way here," the Original said. "I thought about every way I could make you fear me to the point where you would just let those wards of yours fall. But then I thought, why don't I take the route less travelled? Why don't I just let bygones be bygones, and forgive you and that hunter of yours for almost killing Tyler, if you promise me your loyalty."

"My loyalty?" Harry asked. "You do know, loyalty is gained and not bargained, right?" Niklaus shrugged. "What would my loyalty entail?"

"Well, for one your little trinket," said Niklaus. He snapped a finger, another of his hybrids walked in, and in his arms were Harry's gun, his compass, and his wand. Harry perked, then fought himself to look blasé. It didn't work because Niklaus noticed his small motions. The hybrid laid the trinkets in front of Niklaus, then walked off.

"I'm curious," Harry said when the hybrid had left. "I hear your hybrids are sired to you. Can you relay orders telepathically, or was all this snap fingers thing rehearsed?"

Niklaus didn't answer. "This gun," he said instead. "I fired it, and imagine my surprise when it shot out a bullet made entirely out of fire. Do you have any other objects which are as curious as this gun?"

"I do," Harry answered.

"Care to show them to me?"

"Why?" Harry asked, pausing from his question as Lexi appeared in the room.

"I couldn't…" she stopped when she spotted Harry's wand on the table. "Sorry."

"Something the matter, Harry Potter?"

Harry shook his head. "No, just curious why you would care about my little inventions. They should mean nothing to you, you're one of the most powerful people alive."

Niklaus smirked again at that brush to his ego. "Call it fascination," said Niklaus.

Harry took a moment to eat, staying quiet and letting his mind work all on its own: He was in one of those tough situations which didn't look to have a way out right now. The vampire, and Harry used the term very loosely, was an Original. Far stronger than average vampires, far faster, far more agile, and far more experienced than even Harry. Whatever Harry thought of doing to escape, there was little chance it would work.

But Harry had to escape.

He still had only two options, the witches and Alaric, and as much as the man didn't trust Harry. Harry wouldn't be going to the witches for help. But how would Harry play it remained the problem.

Here's to faith, Harry thought.

He put down his eating implements and stared at Niklaus. They were miniscule movements, but Harry could see them; Niklaus' shoulders tensed and his eyes grew alert.

"You're planning on doing something," Niklaus stated.

Harry gave a nod. "I'm going to escape," he said and winced as fingers dug deep into his shoulders.

"Oh? And how will you do that?"

"Alaric's," the man appeared, "going to help me escape."

It took a millionth of a second for the man to take in Harry's plea, then he barrelled towards Harry and tackled the hybrid who had his hands on him. Harry was pulled back by their momentum, but he had enough presence of mind to open his hand. He hit the ground coming to a tumble then was quickly on his feet, his hand closed around the Elder Wand. He turned on the spot, but as he started feeling himself being pulled into the dark tube a hand closed around his throat, then a stronger force was pulling him back.

Pain flared as Harry hit the ground, his arms, his chest, and some parts of his legs. Harry could already feel the coppery smell of his blood flooding the air, and a scream with it, but it wasn't his own. Harry shook his head, clearing his mind of the singular thought that was the pain he was feeling and took stock of the room. He could make out the blurs that were Alaric fighting two hybrids, and on the floor, on his knees was Niklaus, clutching the stump which had been his right arm.

Harry smirked, wanting to chuckle, but his mind caught up. He was still in a house infested with hybrids, and he was bleeding. He tried getting to his feet, pushing his pain back, not that the mental exercise was too effective, but adrenaline helped, and it was flooding his system. He caught a blur at his right, his arm went up of its own volition, his wand moving with practised strokes: a stream of fire shot out and slammed into the hybrid who had been heading Harry's way. The hybrid was suddenly engulfed by fire, but unlike Harry expected, the hybrid did not flail around, he stopped, dropped, then rolled, all in superspeed, effectively quelling the flames before they could kill him.

Harry tried turning on the spot again, but a hit to the jaw sent him hurtling back and hitting the dining table hard. He had a moment to see the blur, Niklaus, and the man looked like he was on a mission to kill, and Harry was his target. Niklaus let out a feral roar, then charged; Harry quickly brought up his wand and a transparent shield materialised from thin air, forming a semi-dome shape around him. Niklaus punched. There was a fury of sparks as the man's left hand hit the shield, then in seconds the sparks disappeared as the shield shattered. Harry was grabbed at his chest, then thrown across the room, colliding shoulder first with the wall.

Pain became his entire existence. Harry was sure his shoulder had been shattered. He opened eyes he didn't even know he had closed; the room was in disarray, five hybrids on the ground, not moving, and Alaric grappling with the one armed Niklaus at equal odds. Harry moved his hand shakily and tapped his shoulder, all feeling disappeared. He awkwardly got to his feet, trying to manoeuvre his left arm to stop being a nuisance. He got to his feet in time to see Niklaus snap Alaric's neck, the man slumped to the ground.

"Can you take him," Harry said to Lexi who had been watching the scene with worry, at Harry's voice Niklaus whipped around to look at Harry. Harry was chilled by the golden-eyed fury looking at him.

He grit his teeth. He was in for the fight of his life.

Niklaus charged. Harry's arm came up and let out a stream of fire; impossible as it was with his momentum, Niklaus dodged. Harry quickly brought his wand up, waving it in a wide circle above his head. The fire didn't stop, it spun around him forming a bright ember barrier. He was about to take a breath when a form split through the fire, slamming into Harry's chest and hurling him back. Harry turned on the spot mid-air, and was relieved when he felt the tight squeeze of Apparition surround him, even with Niklaus in kind squeezing the life out of him.

The two were spat out on Harry's living room, the moment they hit, raw power filled the air, then Harry felt himself breathe again, Niklaus' person having disappeared from his torso.

"Harry!" the voice was panicked, sounding so far from his audial perception that Harry didn't think it worth noticing. He could feel the edges of darkness come closer, and for the life of him he couldn't find any qualms with going to sleep, Merlin knew he fully deserved it. He had to escape his pain, and a few minutes' sleep would do just the thing. He let the darkness engulf him.

"His shoulder's shattered, his ribs and jaws are broken, and there are chunks of him missing," said a female voice Harry thought was vaguely familiar.

"Yeah, but will he be alright," said another, this one was surely Connor, and he had a bit of loathing in his voice.

There was silence, then. "But it will take a very long time," the familiar woman's voice said, "most of which will be spent in a coma. He shouldn't be alive," said the woman.

"I'm telling you again," said Connor, his voice fierce. "We're not using vampire blood."

"Lexi says he wouldn't mind," said another voice, one Harry had never heard before.

"No," said Connor.

The unfamiliar voice was hesitant when it said, "Lexi says you don't have much say in the matter, she's known him longer than you and she knows him better."

"I'll get the blood," the familiar voice said and Harry heard a series of footsteps, then the door slamming shut.

"He's pissed," said the unfamiliar voice.

"I don't care," said Lexi, and Harry could tell from her voice she had her arms crossed. "I don't even know why he's still here."

"Locked in," said the unfamiliar voice. "At least that's what he told me."

"Why would he tell you?"

There was a pause Harry thought might be a shrug. "He says he sees potential in me."

"Potential for what?"

"Don't know, and I don't care. I don't like the guy. He's too intense," said the unfamiliar voice. "Is Alaric awake yet?"

"Three hours," said Lexi. "I'm starting to get worried. I've never hear of ghosts sleeping before."

"I think he'll be alright," said the unfamiliar voice. "I mean he should be tired, the guy fought five hybrids and Klaus."

Lexi hummed, but Harry could tell from her tone that she was still worried. He didn't know though, if this worry was directed at him or the fallen Alaric.

"How do you know him?" asked the nameless voice.

There was a sigh. "He and I met almost seventy years ago," she started. "He was younger back then, a whole lot inexperienced, which is lucky since he was trying to kill Stephen."

"You stopped him?"

"I talked to him, bargained. If I got Stephen to stop being a Ripper, then Harry wouldn't kill him. If I failed," the sentence was left hanging.

"How did you become friend though?" asked the unfamiliar voice. "I can see that you care about him, so how did it get from trying to save Stephen to being his friend?"

"I can't say I know," said Lexi. "He sort of has this way about him, the longer time you spend with him, the more you find that you like him."

There was a twinge of pain; Harry could feel it every time he breathed. He was starting to feel pain, he noticed. Harry quickly pulled back, letting the full effect of the darkness engulf him again before the pain intensified.

Harry felt something nip at his arm. It was short and quick, almost like a bee-sting except it didn't have the throbbing after-effect.

Harry thought nothing of it for a while. He stayed within his safe cocoon of darkness. The same darkness which didn't let through any of the pain his body was feeling. He didn't want to feel the pain for a while. He was in his house. He would be safe until the aches and pain where done, or at least until he was fed the vampire blood—which he didn't mind at all.

Invigoration was the first feeling that filtered through his darkness.

Harry shoved through the darkness; he started awake, flying to his feet, and his wand pointing at the room at large. There was no-one but himself luckily. Harry took a breath, calming himself down. The last he truly remembered of the waking world was his fight with Niklaus Mikaelson, a fight he hadn't won but survived. Rightly so, he was feeling a little edgy. But now he was in his bedroom, and he was half-naked, and the scares he had acquired from his scuffle with the hybrid were gone.

Harry tried to recall the memories from his sleep, the conversation between four: Connor, Lexi, the woman with the familiar voice, and the other voice Harry hadn't recognised. He'd been healed by vampire blood; he looked at his left arm and could see a thin tube with a velvet liquid attached to his arm. He pulled it out, the pain miniscule but he didn't pay it attention. Harry jumped down from the bed and walked to his wardrobe, pulling out a shirt and some pants before pulling them on.

He open the door and immediately had his wand up and ready when Lexi materialised in front of him. "Sorry," Harry said sheepishly. He would be on edge for a while.

"It's fine. How are you?" she asked.

"Fine," Harry said, moving his arms and feeling relieved when there weren't any twinges of pain in his arms. "Good. The blood worked."

"Always does," said Lexi, though there was relief at his voice.

"Thanks," said Harry, walking past the ghost and heading towards the kitchen. He was feeling a little peckish, which Harry attributed to having his last meal under duress. "For the blood, I mean. Pain is not something I felt like going through for an extended period of time."

"You heard our conversation?"

"Parts of it," Harry said. "I can be somewhat of a light sleeper."

"I didn't know that."

"Yeah, it's not something that usual come up in conversation," said Harry. They descended the stairs and Harry could hear the pounding of footsteps against wood. "Where's the hunter?" Harry asked, the sound getting louder the closer the came downstairs.

"Pacing on in the living room," said Lexi. "I should warn you, most of your furniture's been carved into wooden stakes."

Harry paused mid-step, closing his eyes and trying to ward off his frustration. He sighed. "As long as he hasn't tried to kill anyone," Harry said, trying to make himself forget how expensive most of that furniture had been.

Harry changed path and walked into the living room. Connor, as Lexi had said, was pacing where Harry's table had been, in front of him where numerous stakes.

"Good," Harry glanced out the window, it looked to be afternoon, "day, Mr Jordan," he said; the hunter whipped around and hurled a stake Harry's way. The wizard jumped to the side, landed and quickly jumped to his feet. Harry tried to stop himself, but the curse was already in the air, luckily Connor jumped to the side. The curse crashed into a window, shattering it into pieces.

Harry calmed himself and on the other side of the room he could see Connor do the same. "I've been on edge," was Connor's only comment. Harry nodded.

"I know the feeling."

"You're alright," it was phrased as a comment. Harry again nodded.

"As well as can be expected," he returned.

"Good, because we have vampires outside," said the hunter, picking up a three stakes, two of which he jammed between his pants and belt, as he walked to the shattered window. Harry followed. Outside the property, at the edges of the wards Harry could make out three people looking back at them. "What are we going to do?" asked Connor.

"For now, nothing." The man grimaced in distaste. "I need to eat, and you need to start on Occlumency, I can't have you impaired," said Harry.

"You're going to fight, Klaus," said Lexi, drawing a conclusion for quicker than Harry expected, especially since the thought hadn't even finished forming yet.

"Yes," Harry answered. He had to. The man had threatened his life, he had taken from Harry, and worst of all, he had cuffed him to a chair for half a day. There were many factors Niklaus had against him in Harry's imaginary list, and with the addition of those which had happened the night prior, Harry was intent on killing the man.

"Yes what?" said the hunter just as Lexi said, "You can't do that."

Harry disregarded Connor. "Why wouldn't I?" Harry asked.

Connor was about to speak, but Harry held out a hand. Lexi spoke, "If you kill him, then you're killing his entire bloodline. It's the same with all Originals."

"I did not know that," said Harry. "It proves to be problematic."

"Who are you talking to?" asked Connor.

"Lexi," Harry answered absently, frowning in thought. "Why didn't I know about this?" Harry asked. "How do you know about this?"

"I heard it happened when the Original Finn was killed," she answered.

Harry sighed. "Just my luck," he muttered. Harry felt a shiver in his spine, he looked out the window again and could see one of the hybrids, a new one, was wincing from having touched his wards. "My unplanned plans will have to change accordingly," said Harry.

"Lexi, you were talking to someone, do you mind telling me who it was?" Harry asked. He turned when there was no answer. "Okay, you telling me who he is not important. I assume he's a medium, and a friend to the other vampires of this town. I need you to send him a message for me, to Damon Salvatore. I need the ring back." Then Harry remembered about the sleeping ghost. "Before you go, is Alaric awake yet?"

Lexi shook his head. "I put him in your lab," said Lexi. "Harry, I hope I get an explanation when this is all done."

Harry nodded. "We'll be upstairs," said Harry looking at the annoyed hunter.

"You going to tell me what that was about?" asked Connor.

"I just found out I can't kill someone," said Harry. "Not the best news considering he'll be trying to kill me. Follow me," said Harry starting for the stairs, and waving his wand towards the kitchen as he passed. There was a clatter of plates which Harry ignored for much more important thoughts.

They scaled the stairs and walked into Harry's lab, Alaric was on the floor, completely still. Dead, for all intent and purposes.

"Accio Occlumency copy," said Harry waving his wand. One of the drawers to his desk popped open, and out flew a small tome. Harry caught it then quickly threw it at the hunter, who caught it without any trouble. "Start reading," Harry said, turning to face Alaric.

He knelt on the ground, looking over the man. This wasn't sleep. It was more like another death than anything, but he was a ghost, and ghost couldn't die twice, at least those were the usual rules. Alaric was something different entirely, a mixture between two different types of magic, there was no telling what he could and couldn't do. So maybe this wasn't death, maybe the man was really asleep, and Harry knew exactly the spell to wake a sleeping person.

The wizard pointed his wand at the sleeping ghost. "Innervate," Harry said and the ghost started awake. He briefly looked around, then he groaned running a hand at his neck.

"Welcome to the land of the…Living, I guess," said Harry with a smile, the wizard having now stood. He extended a hand.

"Thanks," said Alaric. The ghost took Harry's hand and the wizard pulled him to his feet. "Where am I?"

"My lab," Harry said. "Lexi put you here after Niklaus broke your neck."

Alaric frowned, rubbing his neck as if trying to ward off phantom pains. He stopped when his eyes fell on Connor, the hunter was looking at the ghost in kind, the two having a stare off. Harry noticed but didn't comment, whatever the staring was about, it did not concern him. The wizard instead found interest in the door which flew open, the sandwich floating towards him.

He took a seat on his desk, Connor was in his chair having returned to the book on Occlumency and Alaric looking with intrigue at the floating snack. "So," Harry said after he had taken a bite, chewed, and swallowed, "we've never really spoken have we?"

"Except when you're threatening me or ordering me around? No."

"Sorry about that," said Harry. "Desperate measure for desperate situations and all that. Harry Potter."

"I know," said Alaric.

"This was more for friendly introductions," said Harry. "I have no idea who you are except that your name is Alaric."

"Why would you know who I am?" asked Alaric.

"You saved my life," said Harry. "I owe you one."

"You do," said Alaric, "and I'll remember that." The man disappeared.

"Well that was stupid," Connor commented from behind his book.

"What was?" Harry asked taking the last bites of his sandwich.

"You telling him that you owed him," said Connor.

Harry shook his head. "I had no reason why I would have told him," said Harry. "This will mean he will be a lot more trusting of me in the future, at least that's my guess."

"I didn't think of it like that," the Connor said.

Harry shrugged. "It's a fifty-fifty chance it will work though, which is why we need Lexi to vouch for us." Connor looked up from the book, his expression questioning. "There were five hybrids who fought Alaric, there are four outside I do not remember seeing, and there's also the possibility that there are more out there guarding the hybrid you tried to kill. The both of us can't hope to tackle those numbers alone, so we need allies."

"You're thinking those vampires?" asked Connor with a tone of contempt.

Harry nodded. "One of them may have a reason to hate Niklaus; Merlin knows the man had lived long enough to make a lot of enemies. If that's the case, then we may have someone else on our side."

"I don't like the idea of working with vampires," said Connor.

"No, your compulsion doesn't like the idea of working with vampire," said Harry. "Once you have a basic grasp of Occlumency, we will be able to see whether or not you still feel like that way."

"And if I do?"

"I'll have to make other plans. It's not the easiest thing to do, but it's not impossible," said the wizard.

They stayed silent, Connor reading and Harry lost in his thoughts. He couldn't kill Niklaus without killing a multitude of innocent vampires. Harry weighed the two options, his life and the lives of countless others, and found he couldn't even think about killing the man anymore. He had to find another way. Maybe bind him. But binding was easier thought than applied, Harry's magic didn't deal to well with binding, especially in the long term; Full-Body Binds didn't last too long on vampires, Conjured ropes would disappear the moment he went through magical exhaustion, Entrapment Charms could work, but alone they were too weak to stop an onslaught of supernatural. But it was the best option, Harry would have to think on it further, maybe lock the man away in a specially adapted prison whose wards would hold until eternity, or a powerful coven of witches came and broke them.

Harry nodded to himself, this was the safest option, but he would still need to capture the man and to do that, he would need to go through the many hybrids who would give their lives in an effort to protect their sire. Harry internally sighed, if there was only a way to break the sire bond, then he wouldn't have to kill the hybrids, but this was just wishful thinking. Harry knew nothing about sire bonds or even if they could be broken, he wouldn't waste resources looking into it when he knew Niklaus would be looking to killing him.

Lexi appeared. "I sent the message, I'll check back in a few hours to get Damon's reply," she said, then she shot a pointed look at Harry.

"Explanation?"

Lexi nodded. Harry stood from his seat and started moving his wand in complicated motions, the feel of power in the room intensified to the point that both Lexi and Connor could feel it almost itching against their skins, both stayed quiet though as they looked at the focused Harry who continued oblivious of them both. The entire process took fifteen minutes, and when it was done, there was a low buzz vibrating from the wards.

"What was that?" Lexi and Connor asked at the same time, give or take a millisecond.

"The most powerful wards I can manage," said Harry. "I doubt even Merlin himself could hear us if he stood outside this room."

"Merlin?" said Connor.

"Not the point, Mr Jordan." Harry conjured a chair and sat, making sure that both Lexi and Connor were in front of him. "Can I have your word that what I tell you now will not be told to anyone else even in the event, unlikely though it is, that I betray you?"

Lexi answered with a serious yes, while Connor just nodded, putting the black book down.

"Oaths have power, Mr Jordan, I hope you understand that. I'm not going to be the one to enforce it, but you will find that the universe tends to give you misfortune if you break the oath of a witch or wizard."

"Yes," said Connor after a moment's deliberation, he sounded serious this time. "I give you my word."

"Good," said Harry, and then started telling them about the witches of Mystic Falls, their request, Expression, and Harry's own plans to break the veil.

"Let me get this straight, you're going to destroy something that's keep every vampire, werewolf, and witch dead?" Connor asked when the entire tail was over.

Harry nodded though his eyes were on Lexi who just looked shocked; she stood stock-still, just staring through Harry.

"Have you thought this through?" asked Connor, not noticing that Harry wasn't exactly paying attention to him. Harry nodded absently. "And here I thought you were smart," the hunter said taking to his feet and pacing. Connor shook his head. "Harry, if you do this, then you'll be putting everyone in danger. Imagine the many vampires I have killed, imagine the many vampires who've been killed through history, and now imagine all of them back in the land of the living. It would be chaos."

"Is something wrong Lexi?" Harry asked. All what Connor had said wasn't important, it wasn't as though Harry hadn't thought about it. There was no way he could let many of the evil beings roaming the other side come back here, he would need a very focused point where the veil was broken; a door, so to speak, or something akin to an arch with an ever fluttering curtain. But Harry's thoughts on building the Death Veil were put aside for something he felt was more important: his friend was in turmoil.

"I thought this was punishment," said Lexi with a tone Harry couldn't quite tell. "I thought that when I had stayed here for a time worth of all the evil I had done, I would move on. But now you tell me this is the work of some witch?" the last was said with so much loathing that Harry was surprised. Lexi shook her head. "I don't think I've ever hated anyone more than the witch would built this place," she said. "I don't think I have ever hated this much, even when Damon killed me," and it hit Harry like a train. This was why he knew the name Damon Salvatore, Harry had spent some time hating the man for killing both Lexi and a witch named Bree, Harry had once had a fling with.

Harry remembered with powerful intensity that he didn't like Damon Salvatore. But for now he would let his dislike go, he didn't need his mind clouded by emotions that were of no consequence.

"She's probably stuck on the Other Side with you," said Harry. "If it's any consolation."

"It isn't," she said with an angry tone Harry didn't blame at all. "I need some time to deal," she said before trying and failing to disappear.

"The wards will keep you in until I end them," said Harry, "and since they take a lot out of me I can't let them down yet." Lexi walked into one of the corners behind Harry. Harry didn't turn, intent to give the woman her privacy. "You were worried about the countless vampires," said Harry returning to Connor, the man looked annoyed.

"I hate it when you do that," said Connor.

Harry ignored the comment. "I have something planned for that," said Harry.

"Okay. But where does killing the guy who nearly ended you factor in with all the things you have to do?" asked Conner.

"It's why I need as many heads as possible," said Harry. "If you can grasp Occlumency, then we'll go around searching for more of your kind and maybe train them as well. Maybe we could have an army of hunters within a month or so," and I'll tell you that we can't actually kill Niklaus when you're no longer under some supernatural compulsion, thought Harry.

The hunter snorted. "I really want to see how this all pans out," he said before returning to his book.

* * *

AN: I believe at this point I should make things interesting. I imagine a war, but all things could end in a truce, I'm not sure which I prefer to write at the moment.


	7. Chapter 7

Gathering

Harry sat, brooding. There was an interesting magical object in front of him, and yet he just couldn't stop brooding. The scuffle with Niklaus played-out in the wizard's mind in a loop, from beginning to end, and he didn't like what he remembered. Harry had been trained by an Original, a man who had not held back punches and had worked Harry to the bone, and given close to half a decade Harry had finally adapted and become stronger.

He was a hunter, Merlin be damned, and yet he had almost been killed by his 'prey'.

Harry sighed; he had grown weak over the years. He had lost his edge. He had become too much of a scholar of magic and not enough of a warrior, and yet, even now that the realisation had hit, Harry still couldn't resist the allure to try and understand every concept where magic was concerned, which was the reason one of Connor's stakes, carved with a mark Harry had never seen before, revolved slowly before him.

The stake was an excellent bit of magic. It had the sense to it much like Harry would feel within a charmed or cursed object, only the stake was a whole lot more powerful. Harry flicked his wand, the stake revolving a little faster because of the motion. The wizard studied the stake intently, taking in the finely crafted carving, the evenly spaced lines, and the length of the stake itself. It looked just about the right sized to be used like a dagger. But Harry didn't focus too much on the physical attributes of the stake, and instead the symbolic.

Connor's magic was inherent. It didn't have an effect on the outside world, but on the hunter himself; Connor was stronger, a little faster, agile, and he could heal fast but not fast enough that it was akin to the healing rate of vampires or werewolves. Even the tattoo Connor had spoken of was on him and other hunters like him, and Harry theorised that he could see it because all hunters shared some sort of connection—much like the witches of this world who all drew power from nature shared that connection. But the stake went against the pattern. The power Harry could feel from it was strong enough that Harry was sure it had some effect on the real world, and most likely vampires since Connor was born to dispose of as many as possible.

Harry wanted to test the stake, to see what effect it would have on vampires, but more than anything, Harry wanted to recreate how the stake had been charmed. A symbol. Harry had never thought about it before, never even considered the possibility that he might be able to charm objects with carvings, but then again, Harry had tried to retain as much information as possible with the magic of his home world, while also trying to invent new spells.

If he attempted something like this though, it would be big. It would be his own branch of magic. Harry smiled a little, excited about the possibility of crafting a new magic system, but soon he frowned. There were too many things to be done for him to be pent up in his lab all day trying to create Symbolic Magic. No time at all, he thought. He still had to work on the specifics of what Expression was so he could use it to craft a Veil of Death-like contraption, and add to that studying the hunter and preparing for when Niklaus decided to attack.

Too much to do, and Harry wasn't too sure about the amount of time he had to work with. The wizard shook his head, first was the most important: Niklaus. How the wizard would deal with imprisoning the Original, and also the wards Harry would put up to imprison him indefinitely.

Harry got to his feet and paced; whatever he was going to do, it had to be fast. Harry still had the deal with the witches, which now that Harry thought was still pretty vague. What measure was innocence? These hybrids Harry was intent to killing if they got in his way, were somewhat innocent. They were pawns ruled by the sire bond. Did it mean then, that if Harry killed at least twelve of the hybrids, he would be aiding the ritual?

It was a worrisome thought, which was why he felt he needed a lot more information about Expression. Perhaps it was time to call the witches again. Harry took a breath then raised his wand. Every fibre of his being said no, everything in him said this would make things somehow worse, but Harry felt he needed to.

Harry gave his wand a flick, ending the ward keeping the all ghosts except Lexi out. He took another breath. "Anna," Harry said, and it wasn't a moment before the witch girl appeared.

She smiled a little. "It's been a while, wizard."

Harry nodded. "Quite," he said, "and as you can see, I've been keeping to my end."

"Barely," said Anna. "Why did you call me, Harry?"

Harry took a seat, getting comfortable and watching the young looking witch with a piercing gaze. Did Harry trust her? No, not in the slightest; Harry just couldn't stop the feeling that there would be some horrible repercussion because of the information he would want today. But it was information he needed, at least at this point it looked like it.

"Expression," said Harry and even as the girl's face scrunched Harry continued, "I want you to tell me what you know about it."

Anna stayed silent, her eyes losing their innocence, and instead showing maturity as she thought. She frowned. "Why would you want to know about it?" she asked. "Your magic is not of this world. You would not be able to use it."

"I know," said Harry. "But I find that if I knew more, I would be better suited to stop the deaths of these 'innocents'."

"Just continue with what you've been doing," said Anna.

"It's not all that effective though, is it? Especially with Niklaus in town," said Harry. He didn't know much about these witches to successfully bargain with them, but he hoped the loathing for Niklaus was universal.

"The Hybrid," said Anna with ab air of neutrality. Harry nodded. "Why would he be here?"

"The mayor," said Harry. "Circumstances forced her to act as any mother would, and she called the only person she believed could help her son. Suffice it to say that Niklaus Mikaelson is probably out to kill me, Rebekah might join the fray, so things are about to get hectic in Mystic Falls. I might even have to kill some people. What I need to know from you are the specifics of this ritual in the very least," said Harry his eyes not wavering from the girl who watched him in turn. "I need to know who I can and can't kill."

She was quiet for the longest time. "You've warded yourself against us," she changed the subject rather overtly; she didn't give Harry too much time to even nod. "One has to wonder what you're hiding."

Harry was caught a little off-guard by the statement. He had yet to hide anything, but the wards were a preventative measure. Harry knew he was going to piss them off when he started dabbling with Expression, and he didn't want angry witches having free reign in his house. But Harry couldn't go and tell her that now could he? With Niklaus in town Harry did not need his mind going astray focusing on other battles, he needed to focus solely on imprisoning the hybrid while making sure his word to the witches was kept. Harry thought quickly of a way to change the conversation. A moment passed, and he found it.

He smirked. "If you won't tell me just say so, Anna. I have more alive witches I could ask. Like the Bennett witch perhaps?" Harry shrugged, smirking wide as a small amount of panic showed in Anna's eyes. "I'm sure she would tell me if she knew that the spirits who stripped her of her powers didn't want me to know."

Harry got slight confusion from Anna, but it was gone too quick for Harry to have made sense of it. The girl turned cold, looking much like the older ghosts. "You gave us your word, Harry Potter, and we hope it will be kept."

"It will," said Harry. "But next time don't make it sound like a threat. Don't forget, you may be dead, but magic still affects you all the same."

"And you too, Harry Potter," said Anna before vanishing into thin air. Harry got to his feet and quickly got started on charms to keep all ghosts except Lexi out again.

Stupid Potter, said his mind voice shaking its head. Now you've just gone and told them that we're up to something.

"She was suspicious in the first place," Harry said defensively, though he knew deep down that he had just made things worse. The witches would be watching him now, which, even though Harry could see ghosts, was eerie. Harry sighed. He had to make quick business of this issue with Niklaus, before the witches got any ideas of maybe possessing him or something like that. Harry really had no idea of the extent of dead witches' magic, especially if they were pissed off thinking he was dealing in dark magic.

Harry needed to get started on something close to a battle plan. He left his study, going to the guest room Connor was using as his own. Harry knocked, and it was only a moment before the door opened. Connor was shirtless, his entire chest lined by sweat. Harry raised a brow.

"Exercising," Connor answered the unasked question. "When things go bad, I want to be in shape."

Something you should be doing as well, Harry's own mind said. The wizard ignored it, instead saying what he had disturbed the man for in the first place. "I'm going to be leaving for a few hours," Harry said. "Do want anything?"

"A phone," said Connor. "I need to call a friend."

"Technology doesn't all that well with my magic," said Harry. "I suppose I could give you the car and you can fly to the nearest town to use a phone." Harry frowned. "It's a bit much, I know, but what I have to do is important and I can't Apparate you myself," said Harry when he noticed Connor's surprised expression.

"Your car can fly?" Harry nodded, then realised that flying cars were not something the witches of this world often did. They were too serious with their magic. Harry doubted if many of the older generations had had any fun with the power they had been given.

"I much prefer a broom, myself, but cars are easier to enchant," Harry said, only furthering the risen eyebrows of the hunter.

Connor shook his head. "Now you're just messing with me," he said and Harry snorted.

"Didn't you wonder why I had so many brooms in my lab?" Harry asked.

Connor shrugged. "I just thought you were hoarder or something," and Harry outright laughed at that.

"Everything I have in that lab is because they hold a certain interest to me."

"Noted," said Connor.

"The keys are downstairs, next to the doors," said Harry. "It's pretty easy to drive, much like a regular car. You put it in the extra gear for flight. I'll disable the charm that keeps you in, and I should warn you not to attack the hybrids guarding us. It'll be a good first try at utilising what you've already learnt."

"I'll try," said the hunter, "but no promises."

"I hope you do," said Harry before disabling the charms, then turning on the spot.

Harry appeared in the sheriff's office to find that it was empty, but unlike last time, Harry decided to wait. He didn't feel like being drugged again. He waited, amusing himself with thoughts of Connor and how much trust Harry was putting in the man in giving his car. Connor was still a wildcard, one Harry hadn't known too long, and the same could be said vice versa. The man could very well betray him at the drop of a hat. Harry let out a soft sigh, it was worrying, but to build friendships one needed to show they could trust. This was Harry doing so, no matter how bad the end results could be, especially if the hunter found out it had been Harry who had led the vampires to his home base.

The door clicked and Harry hastily tapped his head, disillusioning himself. The sheriff walked in finishing off a conversation about a couple who had been found dead in the woods forest near Harry's house, all signs pointed to an animal attack they were saying. Guilt flooded Harry. Niklaus had lost an arm. He would have needed blood to get it quickly killed, and therefore he would have taken the first human he happened across. Harry couldn't help thinking the fault all his, which explained the barely Anna had shot at him when they had been speaking. But Harry pushed down the guilt, there was absolutely no time for it.

The sheriff finally ended the little chat and hefted herself to her chair. She sat rather heavily on it and let out a sigh.

"One of those days?" Harry said appearing from thin air; the woman's hand went automatically for her holster. Harry's arm acted of its own volition, his mind as well; the wand started at the motion of a Disarming Jinx, while his mind thought of the incantation. The spell shot out of Harry's wand just as dawning realisation hit the sheriff; the spell hit sending the sheriff's chair sliding back and the gun she was pulling out flying towards Harry. The wizard caught it with ease, his heart already hammering. Harry was surprised to find he was already on his feet.

Harry quickly lowered his arm and had the decency to look abashed. He put the gun on the table. "Sorry," he said, laying the sheriff's gun on the table. "Very sorry about that, but you were reaching for your gun and I was trying to protect myself."

"It's fine," she answered, though she didn't sound as though she meant it. She took the gun—Harry's hand itched to shoot another Disarming Jinx—and shoved it into her holster. "Have you never been told how rude it is to invite yourself into someone else's office?" the sheriff asked annoyed.

"I have," Harry said. "But the last time I went through procedure, I ended up drugged and within the home of one, Niklaus Mikaelson. You'll understand that I won't be exercising that common decency when it comes to your office anymore."

"I heard about that," she said, sounding a little put out, "and just so you know, I had no part in it."

"I thought as much," said Harry. "You don't strike me as one to act without reason, and no matter how hard I thought about it, I couldn't find reason for you to drug me. Which is why I'm here," said Harry. "I'm going to try and imprison Niklaus Mikaelson."

She looked shocked. Even though she didn't gape in surprise at Harry's statement, the surprise shone brightly in her eyes. For a minute she was quiet, looking at Harry with an expectant look, as though she expected the wizard to retract his former statement.

She finally snorted. "Imprison Klaus? Do you know how many times the people of this town have tried?"

"No," Harry said with a shake of the head. "But even if they were infinite, they don't have my power."

"You're cocky," she noted, not looking impressed. "That's bound to get you killed."

"I have nothing to fear in death," Harry said, but I have something to fear in that veil, he added in thought. "After all, it is nothing but the next great adventure," and the wizard smiled at the words of what Harry still considered a great man.

The sheriff shook her head, looking disbelieving. "If you have all this power you spoke off, then what do you want with me?"

"I want you to protect the town," Harry said, "which would mean bringing your police force into the masquerade." Harry looked to have shocked her again, and this time she gaped. "What you will have on your hands is a war between two powerful people," said Harry his tone serious, "one of whom doesn't care how many people will die in the fray, and as luck would have it, the same man is the one with the army."

"The hybrids," she said softly, "but they're here to protect Tyler Lockwood."

"Their plans will change," said Harry. "I don't know whether your daughter has told you or not, but last night, after I was drugged, Niklaus and I fought. He almost killed me, I admit, but I took his arm. He would have needed blood to heal it quickly."

She made the connection quickly. "He killed those kids?"

Harry nodded. "I can see I don't need to tell you how dangerous a man Niklaus is," said Harry. "I implore you to help me put a stop to him before more people die."

She hesitated, thinking what Harry had told her over; whatever her thoughts they seemed to be in conflict, she still wasn't too good in Occlumency for tells to be showing like that Harry noted, but he didn't comment. He needed her to agree.

"We can't tell the station," she said finally, and Harry's heart was hammering at this point. He desperately needed allies, and that he only had two, one of whom was a ghost who couldn't interact with the physical world, was not good at all. Harry felt that he had every right to be worried, if he couldn't get on the same page with the sheriff, one of the most powerful Muggles in this town, then what he could do was limited.

Harry let out a silent sigh when he got the answer, it wasn't a, no, but it would mean he had to compromise. He would have to change his plans. He could do that.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Caroline. If we tell them about vampires and all the other creatures in Mystic Falls, they might find out about Caroline."

"I can protect her," Harry said.

Sheriff Forbes shook her head. "You're going after Klaus, I can't trust you to look after her as well. You'll be biased towards one of those tasks, and with the look in your eyes I have a feeling it will be Klaus."

"So you won't help me?" Harry asked.

"I didn't say that." She stayed quiet, looking Harry over. The wizard got the impression that she was gauging whether she could trust him or not. "There has to be another way," she said. Harry raised a brow, she looked like she had thought of something, but there still lay conflict in her eyes. "We could lace the town's water supply with Vervain. It will mean that they can't drink from the townspeople."

"It's a start," Harry said, though he had been wishing for more along the lines of his own personal army within the police force. "If you could manage that post-haste it would be most appreciated," said Harry.

"I'll need to speak with the council first," she said. Harry shook his head, not getting what she was implying. "A council Mayor Lockwood is a part off," she added and comprehension hit. She had called Niklaus into town, and she would most likely want him to stay in order for the Original to keep protecting his son. She wouldn't agree to this. But, Harry thought, there would surely be others in the council. Other who would want the hybrid here—no Harry quickly interjected, he couldn't point fingers directly at Niklaus, with his arrival was the arrival of all the hybrids. The council might put two and two together and start actively hunting the hybrids, another thing Harry couldn't have.

A plan formed. "Tell them you suspect this death was the work of a vampire, and that the town should be protected. Mayor Lockwood wouldn't be able to go against that without seeming suspicious." The sheriff nodded, Harry stood. "I will be leaving then, I have other matters to attend to."

Sheriff Forbes nodded, and Harry turned on the spot. He didn't appear in his house this time, but outside the Mystic Grill, he quickly disillusioned himself then removed his scent. He had a lot of ground to cover without his compass. He started walking around, looking for at least one of the vampires of this town. Lexi had been gone two hours after their conversation about everything had ended, and Harry didn't like it. He needed the ring, but he couldn't call it to me until he was in its range.

Harry looked around, walking for what felt like hours when a thought finally came to him. He knew where one of them lived, Harry turned on the spot but slammed into a wall. He staggered, but he knew the feeling too well. Someone was blocking him from Apparating to the former witch's house.

"Bugger," said Harry under his breath. This was definitely the work of the witches. Search it was them. Harry continued in his search, moving around with his eyes scanning around, dodging a few people as he went around the town. An hour, he renewed the gust-like spell which took away his scent and kept on moving. When hunger pangs started, and Harry thought about calling it an afternoon, he spotted someone: The Ripper.

The man walked deftly toward something, his gait just enough that Harry could follow. The wizard did just that. Harry didn't expect that the man would tell him anything, especially not after their first meeting. The wizard just needed to get close enough to his ring that he could call it, that was all that matter at this point.

A minute into his tailing the Ripper stopped, frowning as he looked around in confusion. Harry tapped himself with his wand, blanketing himself with a Quieting Charm. After another minute the Ripper shook his head and continued walking, this time at a faster pace. Harry followed, his wand kept firmly in his hand. He wouldn't be caught off-guard again. Next time he fought, he would win.

The two walked, and finally the Ripper turned into a nice looking suburban house. Walking closer Harry could see through the window, it was a gathering inside, and one with all the vampires all together, with them was Lexi, Alaric, Matt and another boy Harry had not seen before. Harry was interested; he refreshed the charm for the scent and layered another Quieting Charm.

"How did you powwow with your old friend go?" asked Damon Salvatore, his voice drifting outside to Harry.

"Informative," said the Ripper. "It turns out He fought with Klaus, and fought hard enough that he has Klaus spooked. Klaus thinks He could actually succeed at killing him, and I don't I think the explanation is unneeded of what will happened to us if He succeeds."

"Harry won't kill him," said Lexi. "I've told him what will happen if he kills Klaus and he agreed to change his plans."

Lexi's message was repeated by Alaric, though from what Harry could see from the room there was one other who looked at Lexi as though he could hear her. The medium perhaps? Harry thought.

"I think it goes without saying that we don't trust your friend, Lexi," said Damon looking where he thought the ghost might be, which was totally off the mark. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't he playing house with hunter who almost killed Tyler? Twice?"

Caroline frowned at that. But asked, "Lexi, hasn't he told you what that's about?"

"Yeah," said Matt. "Harry didn't look like he liked it when the guy was questioning me about Elena."

"She says no," this time it was the medium who spoke. "She says she hasn't had time to ask yet. She says she's supposed to be getting the ring back."

"And like I told you before, tell Him to come get it himself. I can't for the chance to sink my teeth into him," Damon muttered.

"That would be a mistake," said Alaric. "If Klaus is scared of the guy we should be too. Stay on the side of caution," the corporeal ghost added when Damon shot a scowl his way.

Damon sighed. "This would be so much easier if we had our own witch," said Damon with what Harry thought a healthy amount of exasperation.

"Bonnie's working on it," said Elena Gilbert. "She says Professor Shane is helping her, teaching her a new kind of magic. She just doesn't have control of it yet."

"She also mentioned that Shane knows a lot," added Caroline, "and by a lot I mean everything."

"We need to find this Professor Shane," said the Ripper. "Maybe he will be able to shed a little light on Him."

"Since our inside woman hasn't been all that forthcoming," added Damon sounding put out.

"Harry's my friend," said Lexi with an icy tone. "Don't think I'll betray him for you Damon, don't forget that you killed me."

The message wasn't relayed, both Alaric and the Medium looked between Damon and Lexi; there was an awkwardness which only the two could feel, but the vampire seemed to sense something was wrong and they stared at the two for a comment. Neither spoke, Harry decided it was time step in.

He took a breath, this was about the most stupid plan he had ever had, but it was worth a try. He conjured a compass in full likeness to the one he had lost to Niklaus, only this one pointed north; the wizard then Apparated a small distance away from the house, still within hearing distance, and all at once removed the charms on his person. He began walking, moving fearlessly into a den filled with vampire, at times looking at his compass.

He walked up to the house, aware of the silence as he did, and knocked with his left hand, which still clutched the conjured compass. He knocked, and after a moment he heard footsteps. Harry could feel his heart begin beating rapidly, what he was trying now was really the definition of stupid, but it was worth a try.

The door opened, revealing a very surprised Elena Gilbert. "You," she said, even the one word surprised.

"Me," said Harry, at his voice most of the vampires appeared behind Elena, all looking tense. "I wonder if I may come in."

"What are you doing here?" it was Lexi who asked, she had appeared beside the wizard and was looking at him with confusion.

"That," said Harry as he felt the call of his ring washing over him. He called back, opening his hand; the ring jumped from Damon's finger faster than the vampire could anticipate. The wizard dropped the compass, which promptly disappeared, and caught the ring. "It's been a few hours, I thought Damon Salvatore would have given you trouble." Harry smiled even as a scowl, from Damon most probably for the ring, was sent his way. "But now that I'm here, and I sort of overheard that you were talking about Niklaus and me, I thought I might put my two cents into the matter."

There was a lengthy silence, all looking at him as if he had grown an extra head, which Harry could fully understand: he had threatened most of them, his actions had caused the almost death of Caroline's boyfriend. But Harry quickly defended himself that he had planned that they would win; he had planned that a coven of four could easily take one hunter.

"I give you my word I will not try to kill one of you, provided you all act in kind," said Harry. It didn't work much, he still had all of them, and the Ripper most of all, looked on edge, as though they were just waiting to attack. "As Lexi can attest, I always keep my word, speaking of which."

Harry opened the hand with the ring and focused, the little ring rose from his hand, floating in the air, then began to slowly revolving. It spun once, twice, then on the third time Harry felt a piece of him leave, his power. Not so much that he was exhausted, but enough that he felt its absence.

"Lexi," it was said not by Harry but by the Ripper, there lay unadulterated happiness in the man's eyes as he looked at the new corporeal ghost. Harry smiled, closing his hand; had he known this would be the result if he used the ring then he would have done it a long time ago. But the wizard had overestimated his abilities, thinking he knew all he could know about the Deathly Hollows.

He was wrong, and his mistake had caused one of his few friends to walk in what she truly thought was punishment.

"I would leave you all to catch up," Harry said, "but I don't think I will get the chance to find you again, so can I come in? We really should talk."

Eyes shifted from Harry to Lexi, who looked to be silently pleading to the others to at least hear her friend out. She was hesitant, but finally Elena said yes, and moved the barest inch back to permit the wizard entry. Harry brightened, then turned on the spot, appearing in the living room.

"You'll have to forgive my rudeness to Apparating in," said Harry as the vampires lined in, the humans following a second later. "But we haven't gotten to the point in our relationship where we can trust each other."

"And I wonder whose fault that is," muttered Caroline with a glare sent Harry's way.

"You're angry about your boyfriend," Harry stated in a way that it almost sounded like a guess. "My apologies for that."

"Can we skip the chitchat, and what you want to say and leave?" said Doman clearly annoyed. The ensemble of vampires stood at strategic positions, Harry noticed: Damon and Stefan were at the forefront, with Caroline between them. Behind her was Matt and the medium, and behind them was Elena Gilbert and Alaric. Lexi stood in no-man's-land, between the vampires and Harry who stood with his wand still at his side. "Before the urge to kill you finally overwhelms me," said the man.

"Okay," said Harry, getting his thoughts quickly in order. "I feel that a struggle between myself and Niklaus is about to start, and from what I've overheard it seems he and I are of the same mind. This, unfortunately, means war. You lot are in the middle of it. Lexi, when I had started to think of ways I could kill the hybrid, informed me of the unfortunate implication of killing him., and I agreed that I would handle matters non-mortally. Niklaus will most likely come to you looking for allies, and you being a part of his pedigree means you would be likely to agree to save your own lives. I am giving you the option of neutrality. I will not say what my plans are to get Niklaus out of the picture, but I will say that they do not involve you, and a whole lot of others, dying."

"So you want us out of a fight that could have us rid of you?" asked Damon.

"I suppose you could say that," said Harry. "But you have to consider, the only thing I have done so far is curse most of you" –and he looked at Caroline in a way that said, 'I still haven't forgotten about you'- "and insured you were a step closer to getting a man who has the potential and cunning to kill half if not all of you given time."

"A man you took away," said Stefan.

Harry shrugged. "The hunter is of interest to me," said Harry. "I couldn't just let him die with that interest being sated." Harry let out a sigh, looking at the distrustful eyes set on him. "My actions are reprehensible when they are looked at by another's eyes, I would guess, but no less they serve a greater purpose. I plead to you all to head my warning. I can feel the worst about to come, and I fear when I am too caught up in it all, I will do just about anything to survive."

Harry turned on the spot.

The wizard appeared and ran his wand through the air. The house was still empty, Connor still out. Not that Harry minded. He walked up to his study, lazily tossing and catching his ring as he walked. Harry flicked his wand and opened the lab doors. He walked in and towards his seat. The wizard took it, his ring still going up and coming down at set intervals.

He threw it up, and the ring stopped mid-air. It was not his magic, but the magic of the ring itself. Harry for his life couldn't hope to even manage this simple act of wandless magic, but his status as the Master of Death afforded him power over the Hallows; he could feel their call and respond in kind, calling the Hallows to himself; he could see those hidden behind the Cloak of Invisibility as though they were made of solid darkness; he could call ghosts; and with the Elder Wand as his source of power, Harry could perform spells far more powerful than he could have ever managed with the Phoenix Tail-Feather wand.

The ring spun once, twice, and three times. Harry felt another part of himself leave, he felt a part of him dislodge and become attached to something else. Harry let out a breath, bringing people back was discomforting, he couldn't guess he could do it more than three times this day, and he didn't know anything further less he lose all of himself.

Harry smiled as he caught sight of the woman standing before him, looking around, taking the room in with interest. She was tall and dark-skinned, and with loud, curly hair. She smiled a bright smile when her eyes finally landed on Harry, she let out a laugh.

"Well if it isn't the man from another world," she said.

"Hello, Bree," said Harry. "Long time no see."

"Very long time," she said. "Not that I minded, of course, you have no idea how many witches I've come across. How much I've learned."

"No longer the weakling then?"

She smirked, a malicious sort of smirk. The windows shook, the tables shook, everything shook. A rattle filled the air, splinters forming across Harry's desk. Harry rolled back his chair, and it wasn't a second later that the table exploded; a shield formed around Harry as splinters flew at him, buffing them off. Bree stood where she had, still with her smirk, and not even one splinter on her person.

"You know I can't repair that right?" said Harry. "Too many enchantment to fortify the table and ensure that it couldn't break or wear." Harry sighed. "It took me a month to charm," said Harry.

"You're missing the point," said Bree, a little put out.

"I know, I know, you're powerful, well, a lot more powerful than you were before," said Harry. "But you could have just told me all this, you didn't need to destroy my table."

"It's a table, Harry."

Harry sighed. "It is," the wizard said. He swished his wand, collecting all the splinters and vanishing them. "You're alive, if you haven't noticed," said Harry.

"I have," said Bree. "I should tell you right now, Harry. The witches on the Other Side, they talk about you, and they don't like you much. The feeling has sort off rubbed off on me. Why am I here?"

"To change the world," said Harry, reflecting a large smirk, "and win a war."


	8. Chapter 8

Three

"It's called Expression," Harry was explaining. He and Bree were still in his lab, a bottle of whiskey on the desk, and a sandwich in front of Bree, the air was alive with the buzzing of warding charms.

"Never heard of it," said Bree and taking a bite from her sandwich.

"I think it's a witchy secret," said Harry. "The only reason I heard about it was because I was asked by the ghost witches of this town to do some work for them."

"And you agreed?" Bree asked, surprised.

"They sort of made me give them my word I would help," said Harry sheepishly. "I didn't have much of a choice, there was a girl's life at stake and I wasn't thinking straight."

Bree hummed. "Always the hero."

"It's how we met though," said Harry. "If you still remember."

"Of course I remember," she said. "She almost ripped my head off."

"Which is where the term Ripper came from, I've heard," said Harry. "No less, you're right. I was playing hero, and the witches got me to help them in a little matter of stopping a ritual. An Expression Ritual."

"The same Expression you think has the potential to change the world?"

"The same Expression I know has the potential to change the world," Harry corrected. Bree looked doubtful, so Harry went further. "How do you know I'm from another world?" he asked.

"The witches on the Other Side talk," said Bree, "and some have a very deep connection with Nature. I heard through hearsay, but I didn't think for the life of me it could be real."

"It is," said Harry and didn't go on.

"Are you going to tell me how you did it?"

Harry shook his head. "Maybe later. Right now I was about to tell you something. It's true that I come from another world. Another Earth which existing in another dimension. An earth with a different system of magic. One which doesn't come from Nature, but from each and every wizard or witch. This is the reason my spells are a lot different from yours, or why I use a wand, or I'm able to do Transfigurations while you can't."

Bree had stopped eating, her full attention on Harry. "Is it also why you can talk to ghosts?"

Harry shook his head. "That has to do with something else I won't tell you about yet," he said. "Anyway, in my world there's something called the Death Veil; it's this arch with a curtain which always ripples for some reason. Go through and it instantly kills you, sends you Beyond in both body and soul."

"I don't know where this is going."

"I want to create something like that. Something which could, in theory, break through the veil only, and allow safe passage to the Other-Other Side."

"Why only through this Veil? Why not just create a spell that could just break the Other Side apart?"

"Well for one, every supernatural being would come back to life, which I don't need to explain how bad that is, and second a spell that size would require fuel. The death of thirty-six. The same fuel the witches are trying to get me to make sure isn't ignited."

"Someone's already trying to break the veil?" Bree asked as realisation hit.

Harry nodded. "Yep."

"And the witches of Mystic Falls want you to stop that," again Harry nodded. "Then wouldn't you be breaking your word if you tried to break the veil as well, even if it's in one place?"

"There's the brilliance of it," said Harry, smirking. "The witches don't trust me, they didn't trust me even before they asked me for help. Which I believe was their mistake. They didn't want to tell me about the specifics of Expression, and so they asked me stop the deaths of twenty-four, in other words they want me to indirectly stop the ritual and the Other Side from being destroyed without them giving me information."

"Clever," said Bree. "But then how did you find out Expression in the first place?"

"One of them told me," Harry said. "It was a spur of the moment thing, I guess, and I was set to break my word of helping them."

"That doesn't sound like you."

"I was pretty pissed that they would just appear in my house, not knock, not greet, them just dangle bits of information in front of me. Anyway, we got off track there; Expression is powerful enough to have built the Other Side in the first place," said Harry. "So to break it, I thought Expression would work best."

"So that's why you called me here? Brought me back to life?" she asked even though she knew the answer full well. "You want me to learn this Expression of yours and help you bring down the veil?"

Harry nodded. "You and thirteen others."

"Thirteen?"

Harry nodded slowly. "I've given it some thought, what I'm planning to do needs the death of thirty-six. That's a lot of power. Power I couldn't hope for one witch to match without her dying, again. I haven't thought on how I will make the mechanics of my ritual yet, but fourteen is a good number to start with."

"Do you think you could pull something like this off?" asked Bree.

Harry shrugged. "I won't know until I try, but I can't try until I can breathe, and Niklaus Mikaelson is making that sort of hard."

"The Original Hybrid?" Harry nodded, and Bree let out a disbelieving chuckled. "You get yourself involved with interest people, Harry, I have to admit."

"It wasn't by choice I assure you," said Harry. He conjured himself a glass, then poured himself some whiskey, doing the same for Bree. He gulped it down, and poured another. "I have the inklings of a plan, mainly create a prison that will able to hold Niklaus indefinitely. One that no-one, not even I can pass, and whose enchantments won't fade when I die."

"Then you would need to bind it to something eternal," said Bree, which surprised the wizard a little. When Harry had met Bree, she hadn't known much about magic except for a few spells Harry had learnt were basic. The witch hadn't had the backings of ancestors, she hadn't even known she was a witch until she had been taught by Damon Salvatore of her powers, and so that she knew about bindings caught Harry off guard, then again, so had her display of power. But she has said the witches on the Other Side had taught her a lot, which would certainly explain her knowledge.

"Like what?" Harry asked even though his magic didn't bind things to others. He had her, if she knew the theory, then given time she would practise and she would be able to do it. Luck was on his side it seemed, but the thought quickly vanishing and Harry was hit by a sinking feeling. Luck was never on his side, right now, he expected the worst.

Bree hummed, thinking it over. "Something like the sun or the moon," she started. "If you made a boundary spell bound to the sun, then as long as the sun rose, the spell would exist."

"It could work," said Harry. "But there's the little problem of the sun setting. Wouldn't the spell stop then?"

Bree sighed. "Unfortunately it would," said Bree. "That's the problem with magic, it always has a loop hole."

"How about something always there?" asked Harry. "A tree perhaps? Trees are long living and the only reason they would die is if they are cut down. They're also of nature so that's a plus?"

Bree mused it over. "It could work, but still, trees die, they rot. We need something that won't even fade, not even in the slightest. I liked the stone idea better. Diamonds? Gold? Metal maybe, Platinum?"

"I have gold," Harry said, but stopped as he felt a shiver climbed up his spine, someone had just gotten through his wards. Harry stood. "If I gave it to you, do you think you would be able to perform an Entrapment Spell linked to a bar of gold?"

Bree nodded. "I could try."

"It's a start. Someone just came in, with the hybrid guards outside it's either Lexi or Connor, I need to get them caught up." Harry disabled the charms and opened the door with a flick of his wand. Bree followed.

"You brought Lexi back?"

Harry nodded. "A few minutes before I brought you back, but right now she's with her Ripper friend."

"Stefan Salvatore? I thought you would have killed him by now."

"Even in death Lexi continues to protect him," said Harry as they scaled down the stairs. Harry's wand gripped tightly in his hand. Constant Vigilance was somewhat ringing through his mind. He saw a flash of black, then there was a screeching sound as tires hit the driveway. Harry cringed. "And that would be Connor," said Harry walking out of the house.

The car was parked over Harry's flowerbed, and the haggard, paler looking Hunter was stepping out; the hybrids guarding Harry's house stared at the man with interesting, though Harry thought the eyes were for the car which had just flew in.

"Mmmm," said Bree and Harry spared her a glance, she had a smirk on. "Tell he's single."

"I wouldn't know," said Harry turning back to the hunter. Connor grabbed a bag from a bag from the back and pulled out. "Welcome back, mate," Harry said when the hunter was close. "Good talk with your friend?"

"We need to talk," he said all serious, he took a glance at Bree. "Who's she?"

"Connor, Bree. Bree, Connor. She's my witch. He's my hunter."

"Hey," said Connor.

"Hey, back," Bree returned with a grin that told Harry enough.

"Well, let's get back in the house then, before you go all hunter on our guards." The three walked in and took a seat in the living room, Harry took a solitary couch while Bree took the long couch and Connor stood.

"Is she one of us?" asked Connor, and the way he asked it Harry heard the underlying question, 'Does she know about your plans?' Harry gave a nod, then remembered that he had another ally who should be in on the conversation they were about to have.

"Lexi, do you mind joining us?" Harry said out loud. Bree frowned at that so Harry explained. "A side effect of being brought back by to 'life'—you're not really alive, you're just a very corporeal ghost, I should add—is that you have a choice whether or not to accept my call."

"Why is that?" Lexi asked, appearing.

"I can see her now?" asked Connor, showing slight surprise.

Harry shrugged in answer to Lexi and nodded to Connor. "She's like Alaric," said Harry over the murmurs of excitement between Lexi and Bree. "Both of them are," he added, "and can we get things on the move, there's much to do."

"What? Are we allowed to even catch up?" asked Bree.

"Not now. Connor has something important to tell us. Something a lot more productive than the both of you catching up."

Bree and Lexi scowled, but remained silent. "Okay. I did some digging about this Niklaus you keep talking about," Connor started, putting his bag down and opening the Zipper.

"Unneeded," said Bree. "Everyone here knows who Klaus Mikaelson is."

"Let him talk, Lex. I've only heard about Klaus through rumours, something concrete would be nice."

Harry chuckled at that, and there was a slight smile from Connor. "Anyway I did some digging, and it looks like this guy is major bad news. He's part of a family called Originals, the first vampires." He reached into his bag and pulled out a black cloth, unwrapping it slowly. "Now, they can't be killed, but there is a way to put them down indefinitely. This."

"The White Oak Ash Dagger," said Lexi, having got to her feet. "Where did you find this?"

Connor's face scrunched in disgust, but he closed his eyes and took a few breaths, calming down. Then he continued. "A witch gave it to me, said it was my destiny to wield it."

"Destiny, never liked it. You think this has something to do with your magic?" Harry asked.

"You're a witch?" asked Bree.

Connor shook his head. "Supposedly I'm a new strain of magic," he answered. "I'm a Hunter."

"So that's why you're interested in him?" Lexi asked too low for Bree and Connor to hear. Harry gave a minute nod. Bree was looking at Harry for an explanation.

"I haven't had time to get the full abilities of his magic, but," the wizard looked at Connor for permission and got it, "so far it seems his capabilities are designed to exterminate vampires; he's agile, tough, and strong enough that blocking his punches hurts, a lot; not to mention he can curse stakes—still don't know what those do by the way."

"Compacted sunlight," Connor offered. "It burns every vampire it touches. Very effective in putting a few down," said the man with a smirk.

"You don't like vampires?" asked Bree.

"Loath 'em," the man said with an amount of pride.

"Back to the dagger," said Harry. "Lexi, what do you know about it?"

"Klaus has four, and another belonged to John Gilbert before he gave it to Damon to kill Elijah," she said.

"They work?"

"Yeah, but they also need—"

"This." Connor pick up something akin to a salt shaker in his hand, it was filled with ash. "The witch told me the dagger doesn't work without the ash."

"Can I see that?" Harry asked standing. Connor handed it over to him. The dagger was thin a long, made entirely of silver, and the moment Harry touched it he felt a wave of magic engulf him. "So you propose we use this?" Harry asked Connor, though the wizard wondered how he had never heard of something like this.

"It's worth a try," said Connor. "Originals are supposedly unkillable." Harry handed the dagger back to the hunter, who showed a little relief when he had the dagger in his hands.

"Nothing is," said Harry. "But in this case it's opportune that you've thought of an alternative. We can't kill Niklaus."

"That's what I just said," said Connor.

"No I mean, we can't kill Niklaus without a pedigree ripple effect which kills countless _innocent _vampires." Connor's face scrunched in disgust. "Don't forget your reading," Harry said.

"I won't forget," said Connor.

"So I'm guessing it's a no on the whole binding business?" Bree asked, and Harry shook his head.

"The greater amount of options we have, the better, in often time things don't go well for me, and by association all of you. My plans so far are in two parts; imprison or dagger him. We need a third to be safe."

"Why a third?" asked Connor.

"Three is a magic number," Bree answered.

"So is five, seven, and all their multiples," Harry added. "What else is in the bag?" Harry asked.

"Vervain," said Connor, "and a lot of it."

"Thinker," said Bree and she said it in an almost purr, Lexi shot at her a questioning look, not that the witch noticed with her eyes focused on Connor. "I like that."

"Okay, obvious flirting aside, is there anything else?" Harry asked looking at Lexi. "Have the vampires of Mystic Falls come a decision?"

"They're neutral, but Damon had me tell you that if the hunter tried to kill one of them again, he'll personally help Klaus to kill you."

"Damon's still alive?" asked Bree with disdain. "Oh what I'd if I set my eyes on him."

"If you saw him today, nothing," said Harry. "They are not on our sides but they are not against us, which is good, we don't need further odds against us, underdogs only win in movies. But then again, we have a wizard, a witch, a vampire, and a hunter, I wouldn't necessarily say we're underdogs."

"Same here," said Bree and Lexi nodded.

"Okay, right now we don't have the sheer power to make the first move, so we're going to plan. Lexi, I ask that you be our eyes in Mystic Falls, myself and Bree will be in the lab for a while trying to work on particulars of a spell, while Connor and I test the full length of his capabilities, so I won't have time to keep my eye out for those deaths of twenty-four."

"Simple for a battle plan," Connor commented.

"If you want to make improvement, it's your prerogative," said Harry in return.

"Taking out our guards for one," said Connor. "We've been complacent for the last couple of days, they wouldn't be expecting us to pick them off, one by one."

Harry quickly shook his head. "Without knowing the specifics of the Expression Ritual, I can't be sure whether or not killing them would be aiding the ritual."

"Then why not ask the witches?" asked Connor.

"They are kind of suspicious of me. They think I'm going to be dabbling with Expression." Harry shook his head as he noted the frowns and his look was enough to stop anyone from asking the obvious questions.

"Then tell them you want to know in order to help," said Lexi.

"I tried that already, but I mucked it up and sort of confirmed that I was up to something, from their perspective."

"Then threaten them," said Bree.

"I already tried," said Harry. "Which is the reason why their suspicions, from their perspective, were confirmed. They saw it as a deflection." Which it was, Harry thought, and could see from everyone else that they were thinking the same thing.

"So no on the killing then?" asked Connor.

"Until there's no alternative, unfortunately, no."

Connor sighed and Harry internally did the same, being bound by his word was proving to be really problematic. Then Harry smirked. "Of course, we can scare them off."

"What are you thinking?"

"Target practise, with those bullets of yours. I think I can get a pair of identical sniper rifles and charms them to shoot those wooden bullets of yours."

"I'm in," said the man with an equal smirk.

It took fifteen minutes, breaking into a Special Forces headquarters, which was by far the easiest thing for the wizard, and charming the guns to fire wooden spelled bullets. Harry had in the fifteen minutes also tried to charm the bullets to self-replicate themselves, but the inherent magic hadn't worked on the copies so Connor had had to carve more of Harry's furniture for ammunition. The wizard had not been pleased, but the prospect of venting his feeling through shooting was one Harry was looking forward to.

"Will the ladies be joining us today?" Harry asked taking a hold of Connor's shoulder. Both Lexi and Bree shook their heads.

"We got a lot to talk about," said Bree.

"Girl stuff."

"We'll leave you to it then," the wizards said before turning on the spot and appearing instantly at the roof of his house from which they had the perfect view of the entire property. Connor put down the large case he had in his arm, popped in, and began putting the weapon together, the wizard enlarged his own from its shrunken form and let magic do the work while he surveyed their ground.

They four pairs of guards Harry noticed, all in pairs and lazily sitting in trees most chatting amongst themselves. They didn't pay much attention to the house, and Harry guessed that they might have gotten bored with watching a house where nothing happened and no sound got out, but this would prove their mistake. Harry's gun finished setting itself up only a second faster than Connor, and Harry couldn't help but be impressed, were he asked to put together a gun, the task would be nearly impossible without magic.

"No heart," Harry reminded the hunter as the got into position, looking through the scope and towards the first pair. Harry remembered the both of them, the man who had been his guard and the hybrid Harry had planned to kill with his Curse when he had fought Niklaus. "Okay, now I've charmed the bullet with a minute Partis Temporus, the branches will bend away if the bullet gets too close, so you don't have to worry about foliage."

Connor shook his head. "You know this magic of yours is making things too easy right? Where the fun if there is no challenge?"

"The result?" Harry said. "We'll be indirectly hurting Niklaus, that's fun enough for me.

Harry saw the corners of Conner's lip quirk up before he let loose a bullet, Harry following a second later. Harry felt a shiver rise up his spine as the two bullets passed through his wards and to the trees; branches shifted only for Harry's bullet and there were two soft thuds as the bullets hit, then there were high-pitched screams as both hybrids fell from their perches, slamming into the ground.

"Two down, six to go," Connor said, gently shifting and pointing his rifle at the hybrids who had jumped to the ground and were about to run. The hunter shot, and it was only a second before Harry did the same. Connor's bullet landed, but Harry's was a second slow and missed the hybrid by the barest of inches.

"Bollocks," Harry muttered before delivering another shot at the same time as Connor; to close together the bullets deflect each other and missed the hybrid, giving him enough time to pick up his fallen comrade and disappear as he ran. "Okay maybe the charms were a bad idea," said Harry as they chose their next targets who had appeared next to the still screaming hybrids. Harry and Connor shot, and this time both their bullets landed, Harry's in a hybrid's arm while Connor's landed in the middle of the neck.

"Two more," Harry said, but the pair were nowhere to be seen. "Off to get re-enforcements?"

"Probably," said Connor, who kept his scoping the surroundings of the missing pair. Harry's kept his eyes on the hybrids who were trying to pick themselves up, obviously in a lot of pain, and were they not working for Niklaus, Harry thought he might have felt sorry for them. But now, he could give them not even an ounce of his pity. This was fun, and by far that was all that mattered.

"How is you urge to kill going?" Harry asked, there was a shot as one of the hybrids managed to get out the searing bullet from her leg.

"This helps," Connor said. "But it's getting easier. Burying down my emotions is sort of easy considering I've had to do it before." Harry raised a brow at that, not that Connor saw, but he must have sensed the silence. "I was in the military," said Connor. "It's where my I first became a hunter and I was forced to kill a friend of mine." Connor stopped looking through his scope and took a seat on the roof, taking a few breaths to calm himself.

"He was a vampire?"

Connor nodded. "Imagine my surprise, a person I'd known for ten years suddenly turning into one of those things," he said in disgust. "At the time I hadn't even been sure what was taking over me, I just felt this strong urge to kill, and the next instance I was overwhelmed by an immense amount of guilt. I just buried it all down. It seemed easier than taking responsibility."

Harry patted the man's shoulder, at a loss at what he was going to say, or whether or not he was supposed to say anything. The wizard knew he wasn't too good when things concerned emotions, he was lucky when to have been devoid of such responsibility when two of the hybrids got up and bolted.

"We should get back inside," said Harry. "Get started on the greater plan."

Connor, getting started on mechanically taking apart his rifle. Harry watched in awe at the sight, though he was aware enough to sweep his wand and let magic do it for him, he did ask Connor to teach him the skill though, with Harry's long lives, who knew when he'd need to put a rifle together with speed.

Silently they appeared in the living room, which was devoid of Bree and Lexi. "I'll get back to my reading," said Connor before scaling up the stairs.

'D'you reckon we can trust him now?' Harry cringed as his mind was flooded by a very loud thought. 'Sorry, sorry,' said the thought and Harry couldn't help cringing again at the volume, 'lab, now, we need to talk.' Harry didn't think anything, quickly climbing the stairs before another thought sounded and he was killed by a pounding headache.

The wizard quickly scaled the stairs, filling with panic with each step. Never before had the voices in his head sounded so real. Before Harry would have said they were his, reflections of his different feelings towards day-to-day dealings, but just now it had sounded like someone had infiltrated his mind. Harry walked into his lab, closing the door with a loud thud and sending a Locking Charm so no one could interrupt him. The wizard walked to the middle of the room and lay on his back, closing his eyes, and pushing himself into his mind.

Harry appeared in an office filled with all amounts of gadgets, habitually spouting out different sound and colourful smoke. The Headmaster's office in Hogwarts, if there were a few things Harry thought he would never forget, this office and the building it was in was one of them, not to mention all his children as well. Harry looked around, it had been a century since he had needed to take a foray into his mind, but he was sure this was not the room he had been using last. Harry tried to think back and finally the memory hit, the last time he was sure he had been in his house, the property he had first owned in Godric's Hollow. So what was different now?

"That would be us," said a voice, sounding much like Harry's only gruffer. Harry whipped around, there were two of them, standing beside the door leading into Hogwarts: both looked a lot like Harry, though they had noticeable differences, one looked a lot burlier, while the other was thin and wiry, with hair sleeked back, and wearing round rimmed glasses.

Faces to voices, Harry thought. But it was impossible. The voices in his mead might have shrugged, scowled, or glared, but Harry had never really thought of them as having faces. It was disconcerting to see, especially when the thought came to him that there might be something wrong with his mind, with his Occlumency barriers.

"Don't fret, Harry," said the taller of the two, putting on what Harry would have thought as a genial smile. It did nothing to put wizard at ease. "Nothing is wrong, well, something is wrong," the Harry corrected himself, "but the trouble isn't coming from us."

"Who are you?" Harry asked, and quickly found that this was about the most stupid question he could ask. This was still his mind, they were parts of him, that they had faces didn't change the fact that he controlled them.

"We don't have names yet," answered the burly one. "We haven't been alive?" he asked looking at the other.

"Aware," the other corrected.

"Right, aware enough to have got them yet. What do you think?" the burly one asked Harry.

The wizard didn't answer, too caught on what the burly one had said. "What do you mean aware?" Harry asked.

"It's strange," said the one with the sleeked hair. "But a few hours ago, I was suddenly aware."

"Happened to me not too long after," added the burly one. "Wiry over there said he felt a shift when it did. Whatever that means."

"You felt a shift?" Harry asked then shook his head. "Even so, how can a bloody shift make you aware?" Harry asked. There were mutual shrugs.

"It's not something we've had time to think about. New experiences and whatnot," said the one with the sleeked hair. "Remus," he said. "I prefer Remus not the one with the sleeked hair."

"You can hear my thoughts?" Harry asked and Remus answered just as Harry was thinking it.

"This is your mind, we here everything you think."

Harry started thinking of ways of stop that, but quickly desisted. They would hear him if he thought it.

"True," said—"Sirius, I liked the guy when he was alive. I mean you liked they guy…or was it? What do I say do that? Am I him, or am I me?"

"Give him an hours or so," said Remus. "I was like that too when I first became aware. It's a lot to take in trying to figure out where we fit in in the greater scheme of things."

Harry swallowed, then rubbed his brow before going and taking a seat in the Headmaster's chair. "Who was it that called me here?" Harry asked.

"Me," said Remus. He pulled out a wand held together by a piece of tape in the middle. "I found this in the Room of Requirements. For the life of me, I don't know why I couldn't find one still intact. I did a Sonorous Charm, and was lucky enough that you could hear me."

"Why did you call me here?" Harry asked.

"I'm confused," said Remus. "We both are. Why are we here? What do we do now that we're here? Do we live our newly acquired lives? And if so, how? We're in here. How do we get out there?"

"You want to get out of my mind?" Harry asked.

"Yes, and I'm sure Sirius will come to the same conclusion when his thoughts are far enough," said Remus.

Sirius snapped out of his musings. "I do. I want to get out," he said. "This place is really, really boring. I've been in here for less than an hour and yet I've already explored every crevice of Hogwarts you've ever explored, and there's nothing left for me to do. I want to go out. I want to live. I want to fight in a war with an Original!"

Harry shook his head. "Until I know why this happened, what effects it will have on me, I can let the both of you out," Harry said. He dreaded to think what would happened if he lost an important part of himself. The person he would become.

"And we don't get a say in the matter?" asked Sirius.

"I'm sorry but, this is my mind, and out there is my body, why, all of a sudden, should this be a democracy? I'm sorry. I really am. But I could go crazy if I lose the both of you, that's something that can't happened."

"In all honesty, Harry, you're already crazy. What difference would it make if you lost us?"

"I don't know," said Harry. "Which is why I'm weary. A few months is all it will take, in the least. I promise I will make it priority, but until then you're in here."

"I find, I don't like you," said Remus.

"Mutual," said Sirius.

"I'll be getting back," said Harry. No wands. The restrictions was absolute. The wand in Remus' hand disappeared, and before there was comment Harry pushed himself from his mind and into the real world.


End file.
